


Wholehearted

by TheMagicWord



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (kinda share that really), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Coming Out, Fake/PR relationship (but not between H/L), Famous Louis, Fluff, Frottage, Grinding, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Light Angst, Louis Tomlinson/Nick Grimshaw previous relationship, Louis Tomlinson/OFC PR relationship, M/M, Minor panic attack, Non-Famous Harry, Phone Sex, Popstar Louis, Rimming, Shower sex (imagined), Smut, Stair Sex, Top Harry, Top Louis, ankle fucking (wankles) (it's a thing)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 23:14:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 77,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10501449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMagicWord/pseuds/TheMagicWord
Summary: AU. When superstar singer and winner of The Voice Louis Tomlinson tweets “Nothing worse than waking up with no milk for a cuppa !! Gutted” he doesn’t expect someone to bring him some. And he really doesn’t expect that someone to have bright green eyes, long curly hair, and (fucking) dimples.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the story Louis told in Carpool Karaoke. 
> 
> I have totally taken liberties with how the music industry works and how fast someone could record an album. 
> 
> (This is my first fic. Please LMK if I've missed something from the tags. I'm sure I will have done.)

PART ONE: FALLING

1\. 

“Shit,” Louis said, peering inside his fridge and not seeing any milk. “Shit shit shitting shit.”  
  
He knew there was no milk. He knew he’d had the last of it when he’d got back yesterday and he remembered telling himself he’d better get some before morning. But then he’d started playing Fifa and he’d talked to his best mate Stan back in Doncaster and he’d drunk a few beers and he’d just forgotten all about it. And now his mouth tasted of beer and the massive bag of Doritos he’d polished off in the early hours and he needed tea. The kettle was already boiling.  
  
“Shit.”  
  
He closed the fridge door and then opened it again in case his cleaner had picked some up and stashed it somewhere different that he’d missed, but no. There was no milk. And no tea for Louis.  
  
As he crossed the kitchen, the floor tiles cold on his bare feet, his phone buzzed in his pocket. The pocket of the trackie bottoms he hadn’t even taken off last night, instead sleeping fully dressed on top of his duvet. He really needed to sort his life out.  
  
He pulled his phone out, scratching the back of his neck with his other hand, hearing his spine crack and pop and remembering that Paul had told him he should go and try yoga - it would help him relax. Louis didn’t really do relaxing, unless it involved Fifa and/or lager.  
  
“Morning, knobhead,” he said into the phone.  
  
“Nice,” Liam said, his voice much too perky for this time of day, Louis thought. Although… what time was it? He turned to look at the digital clock on the microwave, but that said half eleven. It felt earlier.  
  
“Is it half eleven?” he said into the phone. Unlike Liam’s, Louis’ voice sounded rough and croaky.  
  
“Yeah. Are you only just up?” Liam said.  
  
“No no, I’ve been up,” Louis lied. “Been working on some lyrics.” That wasn’t really a lie. He’d thought of a line when he’d been lying in bed, wondering whether or not to have a wank: “In the heat, where you lay, I could stay right here and burn in it all day.” And then he’d had a wank. Of course he had. It had never really been in question.  
  
“Good,” Liam said. “What time can you get to the studio?”  
  
Louis tipped his head back, feeling a pop at the base of his skull. He stared up at the kitchen ceiling, squinting slightly at the overbright halogen bulbs.  
  
“Dunno. I need a shower. And a brew. But I haven’t got any milk. Two hours?”  
  
“Right,” Liam said. “We’ll expect you here for half one then. At the latest, Lou!”  
  
“Two at the latest,” Louis said, hearing Liam sigh down the phone. “No problem.”  
  
He ended the call, rolling his eyes at Liam, and then thumbed Twitter open and typed “Nothing worse than waking up with no milk for a cuppa !! Gutted” He added an angry face emoji and sent the tweet, waiting a second for the RTs and faves and replies to start coming in before shutting Twitter down again and putting his phone back in his pocket.  
  
Liam had been on and on at him to use Twitter more - it was really good promo apparently and since he had sixteen million followers he should probably try - but he never felt like he had anything interesting to say. Well, he had plenty of interesting things to say, but nothing he could put on Twitter. He opened the fridge again and took out a can of Red Bull, cracking it open and wincing at the too-sweet sharpness of the first sip as he headed back down the hall to his bedroom. He probably shouldn’t be drinking Red Bull. He was already in a weird mood - restless and tense and wanting to fuck it all off. Instead he stripped off yesterday’s clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor at the foot of his bed and padded over to the en-suite with it’s huge rainwater power shower.  
  
In the shower, he tipped his head forward and let the water pummel his shoulders and the back of his neck. The water pressure was so strong it was almost painful. Louis rolled his head from side to side, letting it hit the tendons in his neck. He twisted so the water could reach his lower back and sighed as he felt the muscles there tense and then relax. He really didn’t want to go into the studio today, but he wasn’t really sure why. He used to love it. It used to be his favourite thing by far. He didn’t know what had happened.  
  
Squirting shower gel into his hand, he started to wash himself, slowing down as his hand ghosted over his dick and balls. His dick gave a twitch and Louis screwed his eyes tight. He’d wanked in the shower so often over the last few years that his body clearly expected it now. His dick was like Pavlov’s dog, hopping up on its back legs as soon as the water started running. Louis found himself grinning at the image and washed his armpits instead, turning to let the water rinse the soap from his crotch. He couldn’t even remember how he knew about Pavlov’s dog.  
  
He washed his hair quickly - the pressure of the water on his scalp halfway between pain and pleasure - and then stepped out of the shower cubicle, rubbing himself down quickly with one huge, dark blue, fluffy towel, before wrapping another around his waist and padding back out into the bedroom.  
  
He was swigging from the Red Bull he’d left on the bedside table when he heard the door buzzer.  
  
“This had better not be fucking Liam,” he said to himself, making his way down the hall to the entry system. “I said I’d be there and I’ll fucking be there. Christ.”  
  
He pressed the screen to show him video from the gate. It wasn’t Liam. It was a boy - a man - he didn’t recognise. Long hair, half-hanging over his face as he looked down at his shoes. Louis squinted. Boots. He was wearing pointy-toed boots. Who the fuck was this? If it was a pap he was going to freak the fuck out.  
  
“Yeah?” Louis said just as the boy looked up and directly into the camera and... Jesus Fucking Christ. His eyes. And his mouth. Louis’ dick twitched again and he pressed down on it with the heel of his hand. It was too long since he’d had sex. Much too long.  
  
“Hey,” the boy said and smiled. “I, um, this is a bit weird.”  
  
His voice. And his face. Louis opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out for a second. “Do I know you?” he managed, eventually. He sounded weird. Squeaky. He wanted to punch himself in the face.  
  
“Ah no,” the boy said. And grinned. And Louis felt all his breath go out of him. He might even have groaned. Dimple. Massive fucking dimple.  
  
“I’m Harry,” he said. “I’m, uh, I live just…” He turned and pointed over his shoulder. “I mean, not right there. Not that house. But a few houses down. I’m a neighbour, is what m’saying.”  
  
“Right,” Louis said.  
  
Harry dipped his head so his hair fell forward again and he scrubbed a hand through it before flipping his head back and there was that face again.  
  
“Fuck,” Louis murmured.  
  
“Yeah, sorry,” Harry said. “This was a bad idea. It was… My housemate sort of dared me to-- I’ll just leave it here and go. Sorry.”  
  
“Wait. What?” Louis said. “Leave what?”  
  
Thanks to all the ridiculous security briefings he’d been given, his first thought was a bomb. And then he pictured a basket of kittens and what the fuck was even going on in his brain. (A basket of bombs? An exploding kitten?)  
  
“Oh shit, yeah, sorry!” Harry said and grinned again and his face was just - Louis realised he was half-slumped against the hall wall - his face was incredible. Beautiful. Adorable. Harry held up a two litre bottle of milk. “We saw your tweet.”  
  
Louis’ mouth opened, but no sound came out.  
  
“Sorry again,” Harry said. “This was a really bad--” He shook his head, glancing back over his shoulder where presumably the housemate was waiting and taking the piss. “But you needed milk, so…”  
  
Louis watched him bend down and put the milk just inside the security gates.  
  
“It’s new. Not opened or anything. And it’s in date.”  
  
Louis found himself nodding at the screen, even though it was one-way so he knew Harry couldn’t see him.  
  
“It’s semi-skimmed,” Harry said. “I don’t know if that’s what you… Ugh, god, sorry, I’ll shut up. Sorry again. Enjoy your tea.” He smiled into the camera again and held one hand up before turning and disappearing out of shot.  
  
Louis found himself leaning closer to the screen to see if he could watch him go, even though he was already out of the camera’s range.  
  
“Fucking hell,” Louis said again.  
  
He was talking to himself more and more, he’d noticed. It wasn’t good. He should get a dog or something so he didn’t feel quite as mental. He could call it Pavlov, he thought and almost smiled. But then he felt his dick, which had been half-hard since he’d seen Harry’s mouth - or maybe when he’d scrubbed his hand through his hair quite roughly and then smoothed the right side of it down with one huge hand, long fingers, rings on almost all of them.  
  
At the thought of Harry’s fingers, Louis’ dick brushed against the towel and he knew there was no way he was getting out of the house without another wank. He dropped the towel on the hall floor and headed back to the shower.


	2. Chapter 2

“Who is this kid?” Liam said, frowning. 

“He just said he was a neighbour,” Louis told him. He swung his chair round to reach for the mug of tea Liam wouldn’t let him leave on the mixing desk. Sensibly, but still. 

“But you haven’t seen him before?” Liam had that little groove between his eyebrows that Louis had come to hate. It meant ‘here is a problem and I won’t rest until I solve it’. Louis was tired of being a problem for Liam to solve. 

“No. But I haven’t seen any of my neighbours, have I? I drive in. I drive out.” 

“But he knew who you were?” 

Louis nodded. “Follows me on Twitter, apparently. But I’m sure they all know who I am. Wasn’t it in the paper when I was first looking for the house?” 

“Yeah, the estate agent leaked it.” Liam said. “I don’t like this.” 

“I didn’t like that,” Louis said. 

It was one of the things he hated most about being famous - everyone was looking out for something they could get from you. Practically every shop he ever bought anything from used his name for promo. Sometimes sneakily, but sometimes much more blatantly. Louis understood it was business, but it still made him feel like less of a real person. 

“He didn’t seem,” Louis started. “I mean, he seemed nice. Normal.” 

“Yeah,” Liam said, scrolling through his phone. “That’s perfectly normal, turning up at a complete stranger’s house to bring him milk cos he mentioned it on Twitter.” 

“He said his housemate dared him to do it. I mean… that doesn’t seem too--” 

Liam held up one finger to signify that Louis should stop talking and then put his phone to his ear. 

“Preston?” he said. 

“No,” Louis said. His stomach clenching with stress. 

“All right, mate?” Liam said. 

“No!” Louis said again. He thought he might actually be sick. He couldn’t believe Liam was making the call, right in front of him, without even discussing it with him first. When had his life got this far out of his control? 

“Hang on,” Liam said into the phone and then, to Louis: “I know you don’t like it, Lou, but it makes sense. Even if it’s only temporary.” 

“I’m not having it,” Louis said. “I’ve told you before and I’m telling you again now. And can I remind you that you fucking work for me and if I said no, then it’s fucking no!” 

Louis’ face was burning and if he didn’t get away from Liam he genuinely thought he might punch him in his sensible face. And that would be very bad. Louis stood up, his chair sliding rapidly back behind him and crashing into a keyboard. The keyboard on which he was supposed to be writing a new song for his new album. The album he couldn’t even bear to think about. 

“I’m sorry,” he croaked. “I just… I need…” He shook his head. “I’m going home.” 

*

He had to drive away immediately before he changed his mind or, more importantly, before Liam came after him. But he felt sick and like he was about to cry. Or punch someone. Or something. He hadn’t felt quite this wired for a long time and he couldn’t remember the best way to deal with it. He thought about heading for the motorway and putting his foot down. Or going to some bar somewhere and getting absolutely hammered. But he knew it was safer to just go home. He really didn’t want to find himself on the front of one of the tabloids tomorrow. But the thought of going home to an empty house… he really needed to get that dog. 

Preston had been his security since Louis had won The Voice. And he was great. He was. But he’d lived with him briefly before and Louis had absolutely hated it. Having security in his house was a constant reminder that his life was no longer his own. At home he felt like the old Louis, the non-famous Louis, the Louis he’d always been. Once Preston had moved in, he felt like Famous Louis in his own home and he couldn’t fucking stand it. He’d told Liam he was never having live-in security again and he didn’t think that a litre of milk dropped off as a dare by, quite frankly, one of the hottest boys he’d ever seen was a reason to change that stance.   
Waiting at the lights by Archway tube, Louis stared straight ahead, telling himself he was almost home. Five minutes away. Once he was there, he could have a cup of tea, play some Fifa, watch a movie, maybe phone his mum, go to bed and forget this entire day had happened.

But then, as he passed the bus stop, he saw him. He was sure it was him. Without giving himself time to think it through - and without even signalling - Louis leaned on the horn, and pulled over to the side of the road. 

“Fuck,” he said again, staring into his rear view mirror. It probably hadn’t even been him. All he’d seen was dark hair. Curls. He was losing it. He turned in his seat to look over his shoulder through the back window and there he was, walking towards the car, looking confused and also - what was that? - amused? He was smiling, anyway. That was good. That made the knot in Louis’ belly uncurl a little. God, he was tall. 

Harry appeared at the passenger window, bending down, his face level with Louis’. And then he leaned forward and banged his head on the window Louis hadn’t yet opened. 

“Oops,” he said, grinning, as Louis buzzed the window down. 

“Hi,” Louis said. 

They stared at each other and then Louis realised he needed to actually speak. “Do you need a lift?” 

Harry glanced back towards the bus stop and rubbed the back of his neck with one massive hand. “I mean… I can get the bus. It’s ok.” 

“But I’m on my way home now, so you could just get in,” Louis said. 

Harry’s eyes were green. Properly moss-green. Louis desperately wanted him to get in the car. He’d lean over and pull him in through the window, if he had to. 

“If you’re… you’re sure you don’t mind?” Harry said, frowning a little. How come the crinkle between his eyes made Louis want to kiss him when the same crinkle between Liam’s eyes made Louis want to punch him? And how the fuck was he thinking about kissing this kid that he didn’t even know? What even was this? Was he having some sort of quarter-life crisis? 

“Um,” Harry said, glancing back at the bus stop again. “Ok. Thanks.” 

He pulled the door open and folded himself into the passenger seat. His legs were really long and he was wearing black jeans so tight it looked like he’d dyed his legs. And what the fuck was on his feet?! 

“Are you wearing glitter boots?” Louis said, his voice going higher at the end of the question than he was really comfortable with. 

Harry looked down at his feet and lifted one foot, as if he wasn’t sure what he was wearing. He grinned, his cheeks colouring. “Yeah.” 

“Right,” Louis said. “Okay.” He nodded and pulled back out onto the Holloway Road. It was only when he heard a car horn blare that he realised he hadn’t signalled. Or looked in his mirrors. 

“Fuck me!” he said, afraid to even glance at Harry. Driving. He needed to concentrate on driving. It would be really shit to offer Harry a lift and then kill them both. He could feel Harry next to him. He felt like warmth was emanating from him, but that had to be Louis’ imagination - he’d just been waiting at the bus stop and it was a cool day and people don’t really emanate heat anyway, do they? He had no idea. But he was aware of Harry. Like there was some sort of forcefield around him. Like those old Ready Brek adverts. What the fuck was he even thinking?! And Harry hadn’t even made a sound since Louis’ had pulled out. God. Pulled out. He had to say something before he made things even more awkward than they already were. 

“So, um,” Louis said, his voice cracking a bit. “You follow me on Twitter?” He immediately wanted to smack his head down on the steering wheel. It sounded like he was asking if Harry was a fan. He might as well have asked if he’d bought his new album. Or had a poster of him on his wall. 

“Yeah,” Harry said, quietly. “I mean… I’m not, like, a fan.” 

Louis didn’t trust himself to look over, but he felt Harry shifting in his seat. “I mean, shit. Not that I’m, like, not a fan. I mean, I am. I love your music. I just… I didn’t bring the milk round to be weird or creepy. I’m not a stalker. Ed just thought - Ed’s my housemate - he thought it’d be funny and then he dared me and I… I mean, I hate not having a tea in the morning too.” 

“It was nice,” Louis said, risking a quick glance and then regretting it when he saw the way Harry was nervously biting his bottom lip. His lips were so... fuck. Louis stared at the tail lights of the Vauxhall Astra in front. “I mean, it was a bit weird. But it was still nice. And I got to have a cup of tea, so can’t be bad, right?” 

Harry laughed. “I thought you’d probably be too scared to drink it.” 

Louis smiled. “If my manager Liam’d been there, he’d have destroyed it in a controlled explosion. He’s freaking right out.” 

Harry laughed again and Louis felt it right in his crotch. Harry’s voice was low, but his laugh was higher and sort of unguarded. Like a child. Like he was just delighted with the shit Louis was saying. Louis wasn’t used to that. Not anymore. These days he never knew whether people were laughing because they thought he was funny or because they were on his payroll. 

“So you’re one of my neighbours?” Louis asked, still staring straight ahead. 

“Yeah,” Harry said. “Well, it’s not my house. Obviously. I couldn’t afford to…” He drifted off. “Sorry. That was rude.” 

Louis glanced at him again. He’d tipped his head forward and was rubbing a hand through his hair, same as he’d done on the entry phone. Louis shuffled in his seat, his hardening dick was caught uncomfortably against the waistband of his pants. 

“It’s fine,” Louis said, after a second. “I know how fucking ridiculous it is that I even live there, you know? At my age. That’s kind of why I was surprised when you said you were a neighbour. Most of the neighbours aren’t as young as us.” He blinked a bit at the “us”. It wasn’t even as if he knew how old Harry was. And “us” felt much nicer than it had any right to. Fuck. “I didn’t grow up in a house like that, that’s for sure,” he finished, weakly. 

Louis felt Harry shift back in his seat and Louis could see - from out of the corner of his eye - that he’d put one glittery-booted foot up on his opposite knee. 

“Me neither,” Harry said. “We’re sort of house-sitting.” 

Louis looked over again and Harry held both hands up in front of him. “Seriously! People keep thinking we’re squatting when I tell them that.” He grinned and Louis turned back to the road, pulling the hem of his hoodie out a bit so it covered his crotch. 

“It’s Ed’s grandparents’ house and they’ve gone off on this cruise.” He shifted in his seat again, turning more towards Louis and Louis wanted to pull the car over again so he could just turn and watch Harry talk. “It’s fucking amazing, actually!” Harry said. “It’s called The World and it’s like this huge, luxury liner that’s permanently going to all these incredible places. They were in Mozambique last time we heard from them.” 

“Bloody hell,” Louis said, before turning onto Hornsey Lane. They were almost home. Why were there never any roadworks when you wanted them? Not that Louis had ever actually wanted roadworks before. But still. 

“Right? They were only going to go for a year, but now they’re talking about going off on these special expeditions - Antarctica and stuff.” 

“Wow.” 

“Yeah, it sounds awesome. And so anyway, they asked Ed to house-sit - he wanted to move to London anyway - and he invited me along with him.” 

“Where did you move from?” Louis asked. They were almost at Louis’ house. He didn’t want to stop. Didn’t want Harry to get out of the car. He could feel himself breathing too fast. 

“Holmes Chapel,” Harry said. “In Cheshire. It’s great, but it’s… small. Everyone knows everyone, you know? I wanted to come to London to…” He laughed, shaking his head. “Sorry, it’s stupid.” 

“I bet it’s not,” Louis said, slowing down in front of his house. “To what?” 

“To find out who I am,” Harry said. 

Louis hit the brake harder than he’d intended and the car stalled. 

“Fuck,” he said. “Sorry about that. I do know how to drive, honestly.” 

Harry laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I appreciate the lift.” 

Louis turned to look at him, but turned back to look at his own hands on the steering wheel. ‘To find out who I am.’ Who the fuck said shit like that? Louis tightened his grip on the wheel, scared that if he didn’t hold onto something, he’d lean across the front seats and throw himself at Harry. To find out who I am. Fuck. 

“So, um…” Harry said. 

“Yeah,” Louis said, glancing at him again. “No problem. The lift, I mean. And thanks. Again. For the milk.” 

Harry was looking straight at him. Those green eyes. And Louis wanted to look back, but he didn’t dare. His eyes flickered from Harry’s mouth, no, to his sparkly golden boots, no, to his thighs in those skin-tight black jeans, abso-fucking-lutely not, and back to his eyes again. He was frowning slightly and nibbling on his bottom lip again. 

“I work at The Red Lion? You know the pub in the village? Opposite the station?” 

Louis nodded. He’d never been inside, but he’d driven past it plenty of times and thought it looked nice. 

“And, um, Ed’s playing there tonight? Did I tell you he’s a musician?” He shook his hair over his face again and Louis let himself stare because Harry’s eyes were covered. He wanted to run his own hands through Harry’s hair. He gripped tighter on the steering wheel. “So… would you want to come maybe?” Harry finished. 

“I…” Louis started. He was going to say no. He should say no. Liam would shit. 

“I don’t think anyone would bother you,” Harry said. “They’re a pretty cool crowd. And we’ve had, like, musicians in there before. I mean, I can’t promise no one will ask you for a selfie or anything, but you won’t get, like, mobbed. And Ed’s really good.” 

“What time is he on?” Louis said. He couldn’t believe he was actually considering this. 

“Nine-ish, I think?” Harry said. “I’m working, so if you come to the bar I can, like, take care of you.” Harry’s cheeks flushed pink and Louis’ mouth went dry. 

“Not that I think you can’t--” Harry started. “Shit. I mean--” 

“It’s ok,” Louis almost croaked. He forced his face into a smile. “I know what you meant. Thank you. I’ll… I don’t know if I can. But I’ll try.”   
“Yeah?” Harry said, beaming. Fucking beaming, that was the only word for it. 

“Yeah,” Louis said. 

“Great,” Harry said. He turned in his seat and scrabbled for the door handle. “So. Um. Thanks again. For the lift.” 

“No problem,” Louis said. “I wasn’t going to leave you standing there at the bus stop.” 

He’d finally allowed himself to take his hands off the steering wheel and was using the heel of one to press his hard dick back down underneath his hoodie. Heat was pooling in the base of his stomach and if Harry didn’t get out of the car soon, Louis was worried he was going to make even more of a show of himself than he already had. 

“It was nice of you,” Harry said. He opened the door. 

Louis pictured his own hand reaching across, tucking one finger into the waistband of Harry’s jeans, and tugging him back down onto the seat. Yanking the handle to drop the seat back and straddling Harry right here in the front of his car. On the street. Fuck, they were on the street. 

Harry was out of the car now, but he leaned back in to smile at Louis. “So. I might see you later?” 

“Yeah,” Louis said. 

“Nine o’clock!” Harry said. 

“Great,” Louis said. 

Harry paused for a second, those green eyes still staring into Louis’ soul. No, fuck, not his soul - staring into his face. And then he grinned. And left. 

Louis started the engine. Held his key card up against the entry system. Watched the gates slide smoothly open. Pulled the car through onto his driveway. Watched in the rear view mirror as the gates glided closed behind him. Pictured Harry in the passenger seat. His head tipped back. His hair. His mouth. His throat. Thought about the sounds he’d make as Louis crawled into his lap. Turned off the engine. Pushed one hand inside the front of his jeans. And came in his pants.


	3. Chapter 3

Louis stood outside and looked at the door of the pub. He needed to just open it and walk inside, but he was nervous. Which was ridiculous. He’d played Wembley in front of thousands of people. He’d sat across from Simon fucking Cowell in numerous meetings. He’d walked out on stage on The Voice in front of four of the biggest names in the music industry. But he hadn’t been on a date for ages. And this felt like a date. Even though it absolutely wasn’t a date. He didn’t even know if Harry was gay, for fuck’s sake. And Harry couldn’t know Louis was gay. Louis’ various “people” had made damn sure no one knew. 

Open the door, he told himself, glancing at the random assortment of drinkers sitting at the picnic tables outside, smoking. All it would take was for one of them to recognise him and he’d be in the Daily Mail sidebar of shame (“Stood Up? Lonely Louis Tomlinson Looks Lost In London.”) and Liam would shit a brick. 

He took a breath and pulled on the door. It banged against the frame. It was a push door. Groaning internally, he pushed it and stepped inside. 

The pub was almost exactly what he’d expected - low ceilings, dark wood on the walls, booth seating around the edges and stools up at the bar. And it was pretty busy. Busier than Louis had thought it would be on a weeknight. He tried to look for Harry without making it obvious that he was looking for Harry, but realised it was probably making him look shifty and weird. He needed to get out of the doorway and look like he knew how to behave in a pub. When was the last time he’d been in a pub? He couldn’t even remember. God. 

A few steps took him to the bar, where a young-looking woman with purple hair and a lip ring was chatting to a red haired guy on a stool. 

“Hey,” Louis said. 

“Hi!” The girl grinned and Louis found himself grinning back. She had a great face. 

“I--” Louis said, but the girl held one finger up and said, “Hang on.” She took a couple of steps, pushed open a half-glazed door behind the bar and shouted, “HARRY!” 

Louis’ stomach flipped. It actually flipped. He grabbed the metal rail under the bar with both hands and told himself to calm the fuck down. He’d just tell Harry something had come up and he couldn’t stay. This was ridiculous. 

The girl came back, grinning mischievously, dimples like apostrophes appearing in both cheeks and said, “Drink?” 

“Yeah,” Louis said. “Please.” 

“What though?” the girl said. 

Mentally slapping himself, Louis closed his eyes briefly and when he opened them, Harry was coming through the door behind the bar. 

“What’s up?” he said to the girl, before noticing Louis and stopping dead. 

“Heyyyyy,” he drawled. “You came!” He grinned and Louis felt that flutter in his belly again. He was so fucked. 

“I did,” Louis managed to say, his hands sweaty against the metal bar. He took them away and wiped them on his thighs. 

“I was just getting him a drink,” the girl said. 

“Right,” Harry said. “I can do that. What are you having?” 

“Vodka,” Louis said. “Tonic.” 

“Cool,” Harry said, but he didn’t move. He was just standing there, staring at Louis, looking happy and a bit dazed. He was wearing a white t-shirt and had tattoos all over his left arm, but just one - as far as Louis could see - on his right arm. For some reason, Louis hadn’t expected him to have tattoos. He wanted to examine every single one. 

Louis heard the guy at the bar next to him fake-cough and Harry seemed to come back to himself. 

“Shit, yeah, sorry,” he said. “Louis, this is my housemate, Ed.” 

Louis turned to the red-haired guy next to him and held out his hand. “So you’re the reason I got a brew this morning.” 

Ed grinned at him. “Yeah. Sorry about that. Haz here can’t resist a dare. So sometimes I like to fuck with him.” 

Louis glanced at Harry, but he was crouching down, getting a bottle of tonic out of the fridge. Louis saw Harry’s back muscles moving under his white t-shirt and tore his eyes away. His face felt hot. He couldn’t be blushing. He didn’t blush. He looked back at Ed, who was looking amused. Shit. 

“Hope it wasn’t too weird,” Ed said. 

For a second Louis couldn’t think what he was referring to, but then he got it. The milk. 

“It was a bit weird, not gonna lie,” Louis said. “But you didn’t poison me or anything, so.” He shrugged. 

“This is Perrie,” Harry said, sliding Louis’ drink across the bar. Louis reached for it, the tips of his fingers bumping against Harry’s and he felt his dick jump in his jeans. He forced himself to sit up on the stool he’d been leaning his hip against and said, “Hey, Perrie. Good to meet you.” 

She had her elbows on the bar, her chin resting on her hands, and she was staring straight at Louis. “You too,” she said. “Big fan.” 

“Yeah?” Louis said. “Thanks.” 

“Pez lost her virginity to one of your songs,” Ed said and Perrie rolled her eyes. 

“Not the whole song,” she said, straightening up and grinning at Louis. “Just the first minute or so.” 

Louis burst out laughing. 

“It wasn’t me,” Ed said. 

“You wish,” Perrie said, before heading down to the other end of the bar where a customer was waiting to be served. As she passed behind Harry, she put her hands on his hips and Harry smiled absentmindedly at her over his shoulder. Oh. Okay. 

Louis picked up his drink and took a swig before forcing himself to look at Harry again. He was leaning back against the fridge, his arms folded. And he was looking right at Louis. 

“She’s cool,” Louis said. He wanted to say ‘Your girlfriend?’ but he made himself say “Perrie.” 

“Yeah,” Harry said. “She’s great. She got me the job here actually. We were in the same art class.” 

“You’re an artist?” Louis asked him. 

Harry shook his head, his hair falling forward. “Just one of the things I’ve been trying out.” 

‘To find out who I am’ popped into Louis’ head again and he drank more of his vodka, before turning to Ed. 

“So. You’re playing tonight?” 

Ed nodded, eagerly. “Yeah. Thanks so much for coming, man. I didn’t think you’d show. Harry said you would, but with you being so…” He sort of flapped his hands between him and Louis. “I wasn’t sure.” 

‘So… what?’ Louis wanted to ask him. ‘So famous? So shit?’ 

“What time are you playing?” Louis asked. Because he had to say something. 

“Now actually,” Louis heard Harry say. 

“Oh shit, yeah,” Ed said. He hopped down off his stool and said, “You coming through?” 

Louis looked at Harry, who was smiling back at him. Perrie came back down the bar and slapped Harry’s bum. “I’ll be fine here. Go on.” 

Harry disappeared through the door again and reappeared on the other side of the bar. Louis followed him and Ed past a coffee machine, through the next part of the bar and into a much larger, brighter room that looked to be more of a dining area. And then outside. To an enormous terrace. Four rows of picnic tables were separated by a strip of patio heaters. At the far end, against the wall, one of the red leather-topped stools from the bar stood on a small stage. 

“This is sick!” Louis said, turning to look at Ed. “I would never have known this was here!” 

“Good, innit?” Ed said. “Really nice vibe too.” 

Louis could tell. There were probably about fifty or so people already waiting for Ed and as he passed between the tables to get to the stage, Louis could see him greeting people, chatting and laughing. 

“He’s great,” Louis said to Harry, who he could feel next to him, but hadn’t looked at for a couple of minutes. A couple of minutes too long. He felt Harry bump him with his shoulder and then Harry said, “Do you want to sit or stand?” 

Louis looked around. He didn’t want to be too close to the stage and have people looking at him instead of Ed. And he didn’t really like sitting down at gigs anyway. 

“How about there?” he said, pointing at the back corner of the terrace, where he’d be partly hidden by some sort of huge spiky plant in a pot. He forced himself to look at Harry who smiled and said, “Looks good. Do you want another drink?” 

Louis hadn’t even realised he’d left his last drink on the bar and he couldn’t remember whether he’d finished it or not. 

“Yeah. Please. That’d be good. Thanks.” 

Harry put his head on one side and smiled. “I’ll be right back.” 

Louis stepped over to the corner and noticed a low wall surrounding a raised flower bed. He sat down on it and took out his phone. 

“Excuse me?” a voice said, before Louis had even put in the security code. He looked up to find a young woman with dark red hair, matching dark red lips, and enormous black-framed glasses. She was holding her phone in both hands. “Sorry to bother you, but I’m a huge fan. Can I have a photo?” 

Louis smiled at her while at the same time trying to glance around to see if it looked as if doing one photo would open the floodgates and find him surrounded by people wanting selfies. No one else seemed to be looking at him, so he said, “Course, yeah. No problem, love.” And put his arm around her when she sat down on the wall next to him and pressed her face up against his. 

“My friends are going to SHIT!” she said, as she stood up and Louis laughed out loud. 

When Louis had started out, he’d expected his audience to be mostly male and while he did have a fair amount of male fans, the bulk of his following was teenage girls. Which was great - they were dedicated and loyal and really good fun at gigs. But his record company - and Liam - seemed to feel like he wasn’t a real musician until men bought his stuff too, which Louis had never been able to understand and it pissed him right off. Not least because they sometimes seemed like they were blaming him - if he wasn’t so good-looking, he wouldn’t have this audience they didn’t seem to want. The music industry was fucking weird.  
Louis watched Ed as he perched on the stool and adjusted the microphone before saying a simple “Hello” and raising his hand. There was some laughter and a few cheers and then Ed said he was going to start with a cover to get them in the mood. 

“If you know it, don’t be afraid to sing along,” he said. 

Louis stood up as Harry arrived with his drink. While he’d been gone, Harry had put his hair up in a messy bun, a few tendrils falling down around his face and the back of his neck. Louis would never have thought he’d like a man bun, but Harry really made it work. God. Louis smiled tightly at him before turning back to watch Ed who had started to play, strumming the guitar and then smacking it with the flat of his hand to keep the beat. His voice was rougher and more soulful than Louis had been expecting and… what was he singing? 

Somebody ring the alarm. A fire in the room. 

Louis knew he knew it, but he couldn’t place it. 

Give me some room, I'm comin through, Paid my dues, In the mood, Me and the girls gonna shake the room. 

Louis realised just before Ed got to the chorus and he laughed out loud. Christina Aguilera’s Dirrty, really? He turned to Harry who was already looking at him and grinning. 

“He does Britney’s Toxic too,” Harry said, his mouth up against Louis’ ear and, well. Louis’ felt heat curl in the base of his stomach and swigged at his vodka, turning back to focus on Ed. Try to focus on Ed. Who was now singing “sweat drippin’ over my body, dancing just get a little naughty” which wasn’t in the least bit helpful. 

Louis knew he was behaving like an idiot. Like a teenager. He didn’t even know if Harry was gay. He was probably with Perrie. And he’d asked Louis here to check out Ed, as a musician. And, yeah, he’d flirted a bit, he had. But maybe he was flirty in general. Or maybe he’d flirted with Louis to get him to come here. For Ed. Louis didn’t know him. He really shouldn’t have come. But he couldn’t have passed an opportunity to spend more time with Harry. Even if it was just tonight. 

While Louis had been thinking, Ed had moved on to a faster song. He was standing in front of the stool, his eyes closed as he sang. The song was really good. Louis didn’t recognise it. 

He turned to Harry: “Is this his own song?” 

Harry tipped his head to one side to indicate that he hadn’t heard. 

Louis leaned towards him, his mouth close to Harry’s ear. So close he could smell him. He didn’t know if it was his hair or his skin, but he could smell something familiar. He couldn’t place it, but he knew it. 

“Did he write this?” Louis repeated. 

Harry nodded and grinned, the dimple popping. Louis wanted to lick his neck. 

The next song was fast and funky and people had started to dance. Louis felt Harry moving next to him, swaying rather than dancing, and more than once his arm brushed against Louis’, but he couldn’t tell if it was intentional or not. He used to know how to do this. Before Nick. Before Nick he would have been leaning into Harry, touching his arm, gauging his reaction. Waiting to see if Harry would flirt back. But he was too out of practice. And too aware that there were fifty people there, all with cameras on their phones. 

As the song went on, Louis started to feel something in his stomach. Something fluttering. It was Harry. But it wasn’t just Harry. It was the music. Something about how Ed was playing, was focussed on his playing. The way he grinned at the crowd between each song. How relaxed and comfortable he seemed up on the small stage. Louis remembered that feeling. He didn’t even know when he’d forgotten it. It was making him disorientated, the same as whatever it was he could smell on Harry - it was familiar, but just out of reach, like a word on the tip of his tongue. It was making his brain itch. 

*

By the time Ed finished his set, Louis felt unbalanced. It was having Harry so close, yes, but it wasn’t just that. It was the music. And Ed’s joy in the music. It made Louis feel… he wasn’t sure what. But he needed to know more. 

Harry was weaving between the picnic tables, collecting glasses, chatting and laughing with practically everyone - the girl who’d asked for a selfie with Louis had pulled Harry down on the seat next to her and kissed his cheek. Louis wanted to take her phone and delete the photo. He knew this was unreasonable. But still. 

Louis sat back down on the wall and pulled out his phone. He needed to talk to someone. He needed to do something to get rid of this spiky feeling under his skin. He called Niall. 

“Hey, mate,” Niall said, straight away. 

“All right, lad?” Louis said. 

“Yeah. Sort of. Now’s not… really a good time. Soz. Can I call you back?” 

“Yeah. No worries,” Louis said. Harry was standing in front of Ed now, talking animatedly. Ed was looking delighted. “Just fancied a chat.” 

“Everything’s all right though, yeah?” Niall said. 

“Yeah,” Louis lied. “Everything’s good.” 

Putting his phone away, Louis watched Harry weave back through the tables and take a washing up bowl full of glasses back inside. He wanted to follow him in. Push him up against the dishwasher and taste his tattoos. There was a rose on his forearm. A fucking rose. 

“Hey, man,” Ed said and Louis blinked. “What did you think?” 

Louis stood up and smiled. “I think you’re fantastic.” 

“Seriously?” Ed said, his face cracking into an enormous smile. 

Louis nodded. “Have you got a demo? I’m in the studio tomorrow and I--” 

“Fuck,” Ed said. “Yeah. I haven’t got one on me - I meant to bring one, but I just-- I can get one to you. If you come back with us now. No. Shit. I promised Pez I’d wait for the bus with her.” 

Harry appeared next to Ed. He’d pulled on a baggy black jumper, so loosely knitted that Louis could see the white t-shirt all the way through it. And he’d taken his hair back down again, it curled against his shoulders. 

“Are you going home now?” Ed asked him. 

Harry nodded. “Why?” 

“Can you get one of my demos for Louis?” 

Harry glanced at Louis and Louis thought his cheeks had flushed a little, but he nodded enthusiastically. “No problem. Are you ready to go, Louis?”  
Louis’ belly jumped at the sound of his name in Harry’s mouth. God, he wanted to hear that more. He wanted to record it and use it as his ringtone. 

*

Outside the pub, Perrie and Ed turned right for the bus stop and Louis and Harry crossed the zebra crossing and turned left down Hampstead Lane. They were only about five minutes away from both of their homes, but Louis’ belly was fluttering with anticipation at the concept of five minutes alone with Harry. 

“So what did you think?” Harry asked, as they walked. 

Louis glanced at him before looking back at the road ahead. “I thought he was fucking fantastic, to be honest.” 

“Seriously? I wasn’t sure if you were just being nice.” 

Louis laughed. “Nah. I’m not that nice. I thought he was really great. Made me remember what it was like to be that enthusiastic and into the music. It’s made me think actually.” 

“You don’t feel like that anymore?” Harry asked. 

They turned into Woodlands Road and Harry moved as if to cross over, while Louis carried on ahead. Harry bumped into Louis’ side and Louis stopped dead. 

“Sorry,” Harry said. 

“You’re ok,” Louis said, but he could feel bubbles of excitement in his stomach at the contact. It was ridiculous. 

“I usually cross over,” Harry said. 

Louis smiled. “I can’t remember the last time I even walked down here. I usually drive everywhere.” 

“Is it weird?” Harry asked. 

“What?” 

“Being so famous.” 

Louis smiled, biting his bottom lip. “Yeah. It is. I mean, it’s great. Sometimes. And, you know, I’ve got money now and I’ve been able to buy my mum a house and everything. That side of it’s good and so you feel like you can’t really complain about the other side. But there are a lot of sacrifices.” 

“I think I’d find the loss of privacy hard,” Harry said. 

Louis nodded. “Yeah. It is. But that’s not the worst of it. You sort of get used to it. Now I find it a bit weird if I go places where people don’t know me.” He laughed and looked at Harry, who was smiling back at him, but with a hint of concern on his face. 

“What’s the worst part?” Harry said, gesturing to Louis that it was time to cross the road.  
Louis sighed. “It’s - this is going to sound really dramatic. But… you know how you said you’d come here to find out who you are? That’s… that really hit me. Because I feel like I knew who I was, but it’s been slowly stripped away over the past few years. It’s like they saw something in me that they knew they could make into something they wanted, something that would sell. And so they, sort of… remade me. And now I don’t know where Louis Tomlinson from Doncaster ends and Louis Tomlinson Popstar begins.” He shook his head. “Fucking hell. I sound like a right wanker.” 

Harry had stopped in the middle of the pavement and was staring at Louis. Louis made himself look back. Harry’s face looked soft and concerned, the light from the streetlamp casting shadows on his cheeks. 

“You don’t,” he said. “That sounds…” He shook his head. “That sounds really hard.” 

Louis smiled tightly. “Yeah,” he said. “It is.” He forced himself to smile. “But, you know, I’m not working in a factory like my dad, so I shouldn’t complain, eh?” 

Harry’s frowned. “You’re allowed to be unhappy with things the way they are, Louis,” Harry said. 

“Yeah,” Louis said. “I know. Yeah.” 

They stood there for a second, staring at each other, and then Harry gestured at the house they were standing in front of and said, “So this is me. I could run in and get the demo or… you could come in?” 

Louis felt something flutter in his chest. He looked up at the house. He’d noticed it before. It was his favourite house on the street, in fact. He’d often wished he could have lived in it instead of in his own. There was just something warm about it. Welcoming. 

“This is your house?” Louis said. 

Harry nodded. 

“I love this house! I always notice that tree.” 

“Oh god, yeah,” Harry said. “Ed’s grandparents ask about the tree when they phone home. Ed says they love it more than they love him.” 

Louis followed Harry up the five stone steps to the white, double-fronted, townhouse, trying to focus on his breathing rather than on Harry’s arse. Harry opened the front door onto a wide, bright, hallway. One wall was entirely mirrored and Louis glanced at himself before running his hands through his hair, which was sticking up in tufts. 

“Just through here,” Harry said, switching on lights as he went. And then they were in a huge living room with painted white wooden floors, dove gray walls and dark grey furniture. 

“Wow,” Louis said. “This place is so cool.” 

Harry grinned at him over his shoulder as he walked to the end of the room and opened double French doors onto a small balcony. It had a bench at each end, a small table in between, potted plants at each corner, fake grass on the floor, and white fairy lights twisted into the railing. 

“We spend most of our time out here,” Harry said. “Don’t have to worry so much about spilling stuff.” 

Harry gestured at one of the benches and Louis sat down. “It’s great.” 

“I’ll just get the demo,” Harry said. “Do you want a beer or something?” 

“Er,” Louis said. He knew he shouldn’t. He knew he should get the demo and go. But. Harry. “That sounds good,” he said. 

Harry brought two Coronas and put them down on the table between the two of them before sitting on the bench opposite Louis and handing Louis Ed’s demo. 

“You want to listen to it now or…?” Harry said. 

Louis put the CD on the table. “No, that’s ok. I’ll listen to it later.” 

Harry leaned forward and picked up his beer. Louis glanced down and noticed Harry had taken off his shoes, his legs were crossed at the ankles and he was wearing white socks, baggy at the toes. 

“Oh shit,” Louis said. “I should’ve taken my shoes off. Sorry.” 

Harry shook his head, smiling. “It’s fine. I wouldn’t expect you to.” 

“What do Ed’s grandparents do?” Louis asked, looking back inside the house. 

“His grandfather’s retired. He did something in the city before, I think? And his grandmother is an artist. The big painting through there is hers.” 

Louis leaned forward so he could see the painting Harry was pointing at. It was a huge canvas over the fireplace, pale blue but with some swirls of other colours, mostly orange and white, as if someone had just gone over and over it, whirling their arm in a circle. 

“Oh right,” Louis said. “I don’t know much about art.” 

“Me neither,” Harry said. “It’s quite relaxing to look at though.” 

Louis turned to look at him and found that Harry was leaning forward - his elbows on his knees - too. Their faces were closer than they’d been all night. Louis caught his breath as he tried not to look at Harry’s mouth. And failed. His lips were full and pink and soft-looking and Louis had to look away. He glanced back at the painting and then back at Harry. Who was looking down at Louis’ mouth and Louis couldn’t breathe. He just had to lean forward and he would be kissing him. Harry. He’d be kissing Harry. He felt like his heart was beating out of his chest. Like Harry would be able to see it, like in a cartoon. And he was going to do it. He couldn’t not. He looked up from Harry’s mouth - God, Harry’s mouth, he wanted to taste it - and met Harry’s eyes looking back at him. Harry smiled, almost shyly, and Louis couldn’t believe how beautiful he was and how much he wanted him. He shifted slightly on the seat, so he wouldn’t need to lean as far - he was so close he could smell Harry’s breath, beer and mint - and then he heard the front door slam and he jerked back.  
He saw - he hoped he saw - disappointment flicker across Harry’s face, before Harry also shifted back in his seat. 

“Haz!” he heard Ed shout. “Harry! Are you still up? Did Louis say-- Oh shit. Sorry.” 

“Hey,” Harry said to Ed. 

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were here,” Ed said. 

Louis stood up. “No problem. I’m… I need to get going anyway. I’m in the studio tomorrow.” He picked up the CD from the small table and pushed it into his pocket. 

“You sure?” Ed said. “We’ve got more beer?” 

Louis smiled. “Another time. You really were great tonight. You’re incredibly talented.” 

Ed ducked his head and then looked up at Louis and grinned. “That means a lot, man. Coming from you.” 

“So.” Louis said. “I’ll see you both.” 

“I’m starved,” Ed said. “I’m going to go and stick a pizza in the oven. See you, Louis. Thanks again.” 

“No problem,” Louis said. 

Louis followed Harry through the lounge and out into the hall. At the door, Harry stopped, reaching out to touch Louis’ arm, gently. Louis’ felt the small hairs on the back of his neck raise. He stopped and turned back to look at Harry. 

“Thanks a lot for coming,” Harry said, looking into Louis’ eyes. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

“I had a good time,” Louis said. “Thanks for asking me.” 

They stared at each other and Louis turned and took another few steps to the front door. Harry’s hand appeared over his shoulder, reaching to undo the lock and Louis resisted the urge to put his mouth on Harry’s wrist. Fuck. 

“So.” Louis said again. “Cheers then. And thanks again. For inviting me. And for the milk.” 

“And thank you,” Harry said, pulling the door open, as Louis stepped out of the way. “For the lift.” 

Louis smiled at Harry. Harry smiled back at him. 

“Fucking hell,” Louis said, before he could stop himself. 

And that seemed to have been what Harry was waiting for because as soon as the words were out of Louis’ mouth, Harry pushed the door closed and crowded Louis up against it, one hand sliding round the back of Louis’ neck. And then he was kissing him. 

Louis heard himself gasp, and his hips tipped up towards Harry’s. Harry pressed his body into Louis’, pinning him against the door. Louis could feel the metal letterbox digging into the small of his back. Harry’s tongue licked into Louis’ mouth as his fingers slid into Louis’ hair. Louis grabbed the front of Harry’s jumper, the wool soft in his hands. Harry was kissing him like he’d been thinking about it all night. Like it was all he’d been waiting for. 

“Is this…?” Harry murmured against Louis’ mouth. 

“God,” Louis said, pulling Harry harder against him. “Yeah.” 

Harry’s lips were dry but soft and Louis wanted to suck on them, to bite them, to pull Harry harder against him, to feel Harry hard against him, to slide his hands up under Harry’s t-shirt and sample how soft he knew his skin would be, but Harry was pulling back, his fingers in the hollow behind Louis’ ear, his thumb brushing Louis’ jaw, his other hand braced against the wall. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” Harry said. 

Louis looked up at him. Harry’s eyes were dark. Louis felt dizzy, breathless. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that since I saw you on the entryphone,” Louis said. 

Harry grinned and Louis wanted to poke his tongue into the dimple. 

“Will you have dinner with me?” Harry said. “Tomorrow?” 

Louis nodded. Harry took a step back and Louis felt cold. How he could possibly feel cold without Harry when he’d been without him for 24 years he didn’t know. But he did anyway. Harry pulled his phone out of his ridiculous jeans and handed it to Louis to put his number in. 

Louis typed it in, knowing that if Liam knew he was giving his number - his personal number - to someone he’d only just met, he’d be in for a bollocking. And a new phone. 

Louis handed the phone back and smiled at Harry. 

“See you tomorrow,” Harry said. 

“Yeah,” Louis said, stepping through the door. “You will.” 

Harry shut the door behind him and Louis heard a thud, which he hoped was Harry leaning back against the door, as overwhelmed as Louis absolutely was. Louis wanted to sit down on the steps and put his head between his knees. Instead, he took his phone out of his pocket and took a picture of the tree in Harry’s front garden. Ed’s grandparents’ fancy tree. Thin black branches silhouetted against the light from the streetlamp. And pink flowers like upturned hands. Something about it reminded him of Harry. He sent it to his mum with the message ‘What kind of tree is this?’ 

Louis was home - just putting his key in his own front door - when his phone buzzed and he pulled it out. He had a text from his mum that said ‘Magnolia, baby. Why?’ and a text from a number he didn’t recognise. It said ‘Hey. This is Harry. Just wanted to tell you that that was the best kiss of my life.’


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a mild panic attack in this chapter.

Louis put Ed’s CD on in the car. He was running late. Just a little, not enough that he’d already had a call from Liam, but he was expecting one any minute, which is why he’d left his phone in his jacket in the boot. He pulled out of his driveway and turned right, slowing down as he passed Harry and Ed’s house, but there was no sign of Harry, as Louis had half-hoped. He’d probably had a good night’s sleep and gone off early this morning to do something wholesome. Unlike Louis. 

The previous night Louis had made himself a cup of tea - even though he was still half-hard in his jeans ten minutes after Harry had kissed him - and taken it up to bed, planning to drink it while watching something, anything, on Sky Sports. Instead, he’d thought about Harry’s hands, his hands on Harry, Harry’s mouth, the way Harry had kissed him, slow and soft and sexy, and rutted against him, not slow and soft at all, but fast and hot. How he’d felt Harry hard against his hip, hard because of Louis. And he’d jerked off slowly and then quickly and come all over himself. So then he’d had to get up to shower. And by the time he was done, his tea had gone cold. 

Now he turned up the volume on the car stereo and let Ed’s music swirl around him. He could feel it in his chest. No, not quite his chest. Just under. Solar plexus, was it? He felt like he was vibrating with it. There was something about it, something about the energy of it. No, that wasn’t right, it wasn’t quite energy. Something like desperation. But that wasn’t quite it either - it was more positive than that. 

As Louis turned onto the main road, the first song finished and the second started and this was the same but more. That guitar sound again. And the beat against the wood. And Ed’s voice. What was it? It gave Louis that feeling again. The electricity under his skin feeling. He turned it up another notch, so loud it was almost hurting his ears. It filled the car like a physical thing. Louis felt like he was driving inside a cloud of music. 

By the time he pulled into the car park at the studio, he knew he wasn’t going to play the tape to Liam. Or to Simon. No fucking way. He didn’t want them to hear it. He wanted to keep it for himself. Listen more. Absorb it. Work out exactly what it was about it that was affecting him so much. He pulled his keys out, grabbed his jacket out of the boot and went inside. 

*

“I don’t think it’s working,” Louis said, a couple of hours later, after they’d been going over and over the same track. 

“It’s fine,” Liam said. 

“It’s not,” Louis told him. He looked across the windowless room at his producer, Julian, who was looking back at him from under the stupid straw hat he always wore and currently had tipped down half over his face. 

“What do you think it needs?” Julian drawled. 

‘Passion’, Louis thought. Was that the word he’d been looking for? Not quite. “More energy,” Louis said. 

“Yeah, but that’s down to you,” Liam said. 

“Not just me,” Louis told him. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Liam said, not even looking up from his phone. “We need ten tracks and we’ve got ten tracks.” 

“No,” Louis said, wanting to smack Liam’s phone out of his hands. “They’re not good enough.” 

Liam looked up and his face was oddly blank. Louis knew he was going to say something shitty before he even opened his mouth. 

“And who’s fault’s that?” Liam said. 

Something happened in Louis’ brain. Something like a shutter coming down. “Right,” he said. “Yeah. You’re right. I’m leaving.” 

“So we’re done here?” Liam said. “We can send the masters over to Simon?” 

Louis nodded. “Yeah. Whatever. Send them over. Do whatever the fuck you want.” 

“Lou--” Liam started. He’d put his phone down now and was actually looking concerned. 

“Leave it,” Louis said. “It doesn’t matter.” 

He nodded at Julian - who’d knocked his hat to the back of his head and was looking between Louis and Liam and frowning - and pushed through the studio doors. 

Once he was out in the car park, in the fresh air, he found he couldn’t catch his breath. He was breathing, but too fast, he couldn’t seem to pull enough air into his lungs to allow himself to relax with it. He leaned back against the wall, pressing his shoulders into the brick and told himself to calm down, he was fine, everything was fine. It was just an album, it wasn’t him, it wasn’t his life, it was just music. 

He bent forward, his hands on his knees and tried to slow his breathing. In two three, out two three. He stared down at his black and white checked Vans and let his eyes relax until the squares all blurred to grey. 

Standing back up again, he was finally able to take a full breath, a deep breath. 

“Fuck,” he said on his next out-breath. And then he got back in his car. And drove home. Listening to Ed’s CD again from the beginning. 

 

When he got home, he found he had a text from Niall, so he rang him back as he unlocked his front door and made his way through to the kitchen to get a drink. After what had just happened, he wanted a beer, but he thought he’d probably better have tea - he didn’t know where he was going with Harry or what they’d be doing, all Harry had said - in a second text after the one that had made Louis want to run back to Harry’s house, throw him on the floor and crawl all over him - was that he’d pick him up at eight. Louis’ belly fluttered at the thought of it. It was a lot to think about. 

“Hiya, Lou.” Niall answered almost immediately. Louis put the phone down on the work surface and put it on speaker. 

“Hey, mate. You ok to talk now?” 

“Yeah, no worries. You ok?” 

“Yeah, hang on a sec, I’m just getting a brew.” Louis picked up the kettle and filled it from the tap. 

“You didn’t want to do that before calling me?” Niall said, but Louis could hear the smile in his voice. 

“Yeah, sorry. I just wanted to ring while I thought of it. My head’s a bit…” Louis dropped a teabag in his favourite Doncaster Rovers mug. It had Subbuteo men on it. 

“What’s up?” Niall said. 

Louis tapped ‘Speaker’ on his phone’s screen and put the phone to his ear. “I’ve just…” he started. “There’s a few things…” 

“I’m not busy,” Niall said, lightly. 

“Shit,” Louis said. “I miss you.” 

Niall laughed. “Fucking hell, things must be bad. Come over and see me then, you soft shite. Now tell me what’s up?” 

Louis started with what had just happened in the studio and Niall tutted, said “Fuxache” and whistled through his teeth at the appropriate points. 

“It’s your album though, Lou, that’s the thing,” he said when Louis had finished it. “You’re going to be the one performing it, promoting it, talking about it. You need to be happy with it.” 

“I know,” Louis said. “But they don’t care about what I want.” 

“You need to make them care,” Niall said. 

Louis laughed, lightly. “Easy as that?” 

“It might not be easy. But if it’s important to you then you need to make it happen.” 

“You’re right,” Louis said. 

“I’m always right. What else?” 

“How do you know there’s something else?” Louis said, picking up his mug and blowing over the steaming surface. 

Niall laughed. “Out with it.” 

“I’ve met someone.” 

There was a silence and then he heard Niall hoot. He’d had the decency to hold the phone away, so he didn’t burst Louis’ ear like he usually did. “Fucking finally!” he yelled. “And?” 

“And we’re going out for dinner tonight.” 

“Yessss! And?” 

“And what? And I’m shitting myself?” 

Niall laughed. “Why? You’re a fucking treat. Any man would be lucky to have you. It is a man, isn’t it?” 

“Jesus, Niall. Yes, it’s a man. His name’s Harry.” 

“Hot?” 

Louis pictured Harry and for a second he couldn’t even speak. “So fucking hot I can hardly--” 

“Yeah, alright, I don’t need to know what you can hardly do.” 

“Fuck off. He’s just… I really like him. And it’s been a while, you know?” 

“Yeah. I know. But you’ll be fine. You’re a good lad, you know, Lou. He’s lucky to be going out with you.” 

Louis laughed. “Yeah. Ok. Cheers. I’d better get off. Got to make myself look gorgeous.” 

“Good fucking luck,” Niall said. 

“Say hi to Mel for me.” 

“Will do,” Niall said. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” 

“Is there anything you wouldn’t do?” Louis asked, smiling into the phone. 

“Haven’t found anything yet, mate.” 

*

Louis was dressed and ready by half seven, sitting on the sofa, one knee jiggling with nervousness. This was agonising. Why had he agreed to it again? He pictured Harry. Right. Yeah. That was why. 

He stood up and looked at himself in the long mirror on the column by the sliding doors out to the garden. The mirror designed to “bounce the light around the room” he remembered the estate agent saying. And he pictured again, as he had then, light zigzagging off every surface, like a laser. 

He was almost happy with the way he looked - he was wearing a loose dark red t-shirt; a black jacket with red checked lining, the sleeves rolled up; tight black jeans and his black and white Vans - but something wasn’t quite right. He stared for a while and then decided it was his shoes. He ran up the stairs, glancing at the clock in the hall - it was twenty to eight - and yanked open his closet door. He tried black Vans and then white Vans and then spotted his black Converse hightops. He pulled them off the shelf - his housekeeper kept his shoes tidy for him, if it had been down to him they’d all be tangled together in a pile - and then found some socks. They had tiny footballs on them - they’d been a Christmas present from one of his sisters. Phoebe, he thought. Or Daisy. One of the twins anyway. 

Once he’d sorted his footwear out he realised he needed to pee again. It was pure nervousness, but still. He couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d been this nervous - when he’d tied his laces his hands had been shaking, for fuck’s sake. It might have been his audition for The Voice. Or probably his first live show. It certainly hadn’t been going out with Nick, that had just sort of happened. They’d never actually gone on a date - it had just been hanging out and then sleeping together. Was that right? Louis asked himself as he washed his hands. They’d never eaten in a restaurant together? But then Liam had warned them not to be seen out together since Nick was also famous and openly gay and for Louis apparently the former made the latter impossible. 

Louis looked at himself in the mirror over the sink and brushed his fringe across his forehead, pulling a few strands down towards his eyebrows. He tried to smile at himself. It was fine. It was going to be fine. 

The buzzer went when Louis was halfway down the stairs. He jumped and then stopped to take a deep breath before answering it. 

“Hey,” he said, as Harry’s face appeared on the small screen. 

“Hi,” Harry said, smiling widely and Louis immediately flashed back to the first time he’d seen Harry, just like this. His dick twitched in his jeans and he didn’t know how he was going to make it through the evening. 

“Do you want to come in or should I come out?” Louis asked. 

“Erm, the table’s booked for 8.15 so…” Harry said. 

“Ok,” Louis said. “Great. Just a… I’ll just get my…” 

“No problem,” Harry said. 

Louis checked his pockets - wallet, keys, phone, that was all he needed, right? Right. His stomach clenched with nerves again, but he made himself open the front door and put one foot in front of the other and then he was outside on the street and there was Harry. And he was wearing a suit. 

“Oh shit,” Louis said. “Am I underdressed? Should I go and get changed?” 

Harry smiled, almost shyly. “You look great.” 

Louis pulled the bottom of his jacket down over his hips. “You sure? You look… I mean… You’re in a suit.” 

“M’not,” Harry said, looking down at himself. “These are jeans.” 

Louis squinted and, yes, they were Harry’s ridiculously tight black jeans. But he was also wearing brown suede boots, a light blue shirt and a black suit jacket. He looked fucking gorgeous. Louis wanted to drag him into the house and wreck him. But he also really really wanted to go out to dinner with him. 

“I’ll go and change,” Louis said. 

Harry shook his head and started walking back towards the road. “Nah. You’re fine. Come on.” 

For a second, Louis watched him walk away and then caught up with him. “Where are we going?” 

“Not far,” Harry said. “Just in the village.” 

“Right,” Louis said. 

“How was your day?” Harry asked, as they crossed the road. 

“Yeah, it was good,” Louis said. “Thanks.” 

“Yeah?” Harry said, turning to look at him. 

“Well,” Louis said, frowning. “No. It was fucking awful, if I’m honest.” 

Harry frowned. “Want to talk about it?” 

Louis thought back to leaning against that wall, trying to breathe. “No, I don’t think so. Thanks though.”

Harry smiled and gestured that they were turning the next corner. 

“I didn’t play them Ed’s demo,” Louis said. “I was going to, but then I… I don’t know actually.” 

“You don’t think it’s good enough?” Harry said, lightly. 

“Fuck, no,” Louis said, shaking his head. “It’s not that at all. I think it’s great, seriously. So great, that I kind of… I don’t know how to explain it. It’s making me… question some stuff about my own career.” 

“Wow,” Harry said. 

Louis laughed. “Yeah. But I’ll keep Ed - or, um, you - updated.” 

“That’d be great. Thanks.” 

They walked up the high street and Louis wondered where they were headed, what kind of restaurant Harry would have chosen. He didn’t think he’d ever eaten anywhere so close to home before. It was a bit sad that he’d lived there for a couple of years, but didn’t know the area at all. 

“Were you working today?” Louis asked Harry. 

“Um, no. But also it’s just here,” Harry said, stopping at a side street. 

“Here?” Louis asked. 

They were standing outside a pub - it was a nice looking pub, with a small cordoned-off smoking area outside and a blackboard that said ‘3 small plates and a bottle of wine for £20’ but it was still a pub. Louis had been expecting a restaurant. 

Harry laughed. “No, not here. Just over there.” He pointed across the road, but a bus was just pulling up and so Louis couldn’t see where he meant. They crossed the zebra crossing and turned into a square with tall terraces on every side and a small park in the centre. The trees surrounding the park were lit with white fairy lights. They walked past a fancy-looking charity shop, another pub, and then Harry was stopping again, in front of what looked like a private house. His hand ghosted down Louis’ arm as he turned to open the door. Louis’ stomach clenched. 

“Harry,” he said, his voice low. “I just need to tell you that…” 

Harry dropped his hand to his side and turned back to look at Louis, his hair falling down into his face. 

Louis’ mouth was suddenly dry. “I mean… you know that I’m not…” 

The corner of Harry’s mouth quirked into a smile. He dipped his head. “Yeah, I know. I’m not going to, like, feel you up or anything.” 

Louis laughed, even though he felt a pulse in his cock at the thought of it. “I’m sorry. I know it’s shitty, I just--” 

“It’s okay,” Harry said. “We’re just having dinner, right?” 

“Right,” Louis said. And he felt relieved. And also disappointed. 

 

It wasn’t a private house at all, of course, it was a restaurant with no windows onto the street, but with huge windows opening onto a small terrace at the back. Perfectly private. Louis wished he’d waited until they were inside before speaking to Harry. Harry got it. He obviously got it. Louis wanted to make up for assuming he didn’t. As they waited for someone to seat them, Louis leaned forward so his mouth was close to Harry’s ear. 

“This is perfect,” he said, quietly. Harry’s hair - or skin, whatever it was - smelled amazing again. Was it vanilla? “You can totally feel me up later.” 

Harry actually shivered and Louis felt his breath go out of him. 

“Noted,” Harry said, his voice low and rough. 

Fuck. 

They followed a waiter through the restaurant, which was small and low lit with round, white cloth-covered tables through the middle of the room, and more private alcoves on either side. Their table was right at the back, inside, but just in front of the terrace. And in a secluded booth. Harry sat down and scooted along the seat. Louis sat opposite. The waiter put two huge white card menus on the table and said, “I’ll bring you some water.” 

“Thanks,” Harry said, smiling. And then he turned to Louis. “I asked for their most private table, I hope that’s okay?” 

“That’s great,” Louis said. “Thank you.” He straightened the cutlery on the table in front of him. “And I’m sorry. For what I said outside. I just wanted to… I wasn’t sure if…” 

“It’s fine,” Harry said. “Don’t worry about it.” He took his jacket off and draped it onto the seat next to him. His shirt was dotted with something Louis hadn’t noticed earlier. Was it bees? 

“Have you got bees on your shirt?” Louis said. 

Harry looked down at himself, as if he wasn’t sure what he was wearing. His mouth turned down in concentration and Louis wanted to clamber across the table and bite his bottom lip. 

“Yeah,” Harry said, looking back up. “Bees.” 

“Any significance?” Louis asked. 

Harry shrugged. “I just saw it and liked it.” 

“It suits you,” Louis said. 

“Thanks.” 

Louis unzipped his jacket and shrugged it back off his shoulders. One of his arms got caught and he twisted his torso to release it, before letting the jacket fall down behind him. 

“How did you find this place?” Louis said, looking over at Harry. 

Harry was staring at him, his mouth slightly open. 

“What?” Louis said. 

“Your,” Harry started. And then he took a breath. And his tongue slid out and slowly licked his bottom lip. Louis pressed his hand to his crotch. Fuck. “Your tattoo,” Harry said, staring at Louis’ chest. 

“Fuck,” Louis breathed. He reached up and touched the words inked just underneath his collarbones: ‘It Is What It Is’. He shifted back in his seat. “You like it?” 

Harry still looked overwhelmed. His cheeks were flushed and his chest was rising and falling, rapidly. Louis looked down at his own hands - he was clutching the edge of the table. He dropped his hands to his thighs and squeezed. As a distraction. It didn’t really help. Fortunately, the waiter came back with a jug of water. 

“Are you ready to order a drink?” he asked. 

“We, ah, haven’t looked yet,” Louis said. 

“Do you want to get a bottle of wine?” Harry said. 

“Yeah, that sounds…” Louis said. “Yeah. Let’s do that.” 

“White or red?” 

“Red?” Harry asked. 

“Sounds good,” Louis said. 

The waiter left and Harry picked up his menu. “We’d better have a look.” He stared for a second and then said, “Oh sorry, you asked me a question.” 

“Yeah,” Louis said. He knew he had, but he couldn’t remember what it was. His brain was replaying the way Harry had been looking at him. The way he’d said ‘Your tattoo.’ The way his voice had gone straight to Louis’ dick. 

“How…” Louis started, shifting in his seat. “How. Did you find. This place?” 

“Oh. Yeah,” Harry said. “Ed’s grandparents brought us here. The food’s really good. And they do pizza. I know you like pizza.” 

“How do you know that?” Louis asked, picking up his own menu. 

“Shit,” Harry said. And put the menu back down on the table. He leaned forward on his elbows and said “I googled you.” 

“Oh god,” Louis said. And then he laughed. “Don’t believe what you read on the internet.” 

Harry laughed. “It was all good. I only read stuff from reputable sources.” He raised his eyebrows and Louis laughed. 

“That’s not fair though,” Louis said. “Now you know all this shit about me and I hardly know anything about you.” 

Harry leaned back in his seat. “What do you want to know?” 

Louis frowned. “Parents?” 

“Mum Anne, Dad Des, Stepdad Robin.” 

“Siblings?” 

“One. Gemma. Three years older. You’ve got, like, six sisters?” 

“See? Unfair. And it’s five sisters and a brother, actually.” 

“Sorry. It was a lot to remember. That’s must be great though. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to have a big family.” 

“It’s good,” Louis said, nodding. “Specially at, like, Christmas. But it’s chaos too.” 

“Do you get home much?” 

Louis shook his head. “Not as much as I’d like, no. I talk to them a lot though. I talk to my mum pretty much every day. She’s great.” 

“I do too,” Harry said. “Mine, I mean. She’s my best friend really. Well, her and Gemma.” 

Louis picked up his menu again. Harry’s mum and sister were his best friends? Louis was so fucked. 

*

Harry was right, the food was good. He’d talked Louis into getting a pizza described as an ‘emotional moment’ to share ‘precious experiences and flavours’. Louis questioned whether a flavour could be “precious” but it had been really good. Mushroom porcini and bresaola, which was much fancier than Louis’ usual pizza - he was more of a ham, cheese and jalapenos person. 

Louis had spent most of the meal asking Harry questions and finding out what Harry had read about him online. Louis also learned that Harry was an avid fan of The Voice and that he and Ed had both voted for Louis repeatedly when he’d been a contestant. It was an odd feeling, knowing that they’d seen him at his most vulnerable and that they’d seen something in him and wanted to support him. It made him feel proud, which wasn’t something he was used to feeling anymore. 

“May I show you the dessert menu?” the waiter asked, as he cleared away their plates. 

“Please,” Louis said. He was thinking maybe he’d get a coffee. The wine had made him feel a bit soft and sleepy and he wanted to sober up before walking home with Harry. 

“Can you show me where the bathroom is?” Harry asked the waiter, sliding along the seat and standing up at the end of the table. 

“Certainly, sir.” 

Harry smiled at Louis before following the waiter and Louis pulled out his phone, as he always did when he was alone. It was a way of keeping his head down and it sometimes put off fans who might have considered approaching him otherwise. But mostly it was a way of not being alone with his thoughts. Louis had never liked being alone with his thoughts. 

He didn’t have any messages, so he tapped on Twitter. While it was still loading a text appeared at the top of the screen. A text from Harry. It said ‘I want to lick your tattoo.’ 

Louis heard himself made a noise that sounded embarrassingly like a whimper. He poured the last of the wine into his glass and downed it in one. Jesus Christ. 

Harry came back to the table and slid into the seat opposite. Louis stared at him. He’d undone the top couple of buttons of his shirt and leaned back in his seat with his elbows behind him. He had birds tattooed under his collarbones. Louis’ mouth went dry. Harry stared at him - his eyes dark and focussed - and undid another button. 

Louis sat up so quickly that he crashed into the table. His wine glass fell over and rolled towards Harry. Harry stopped it with one finger, still staring at Louis. There was an enormous butterfly tattoo in the middle of Harry’s chest. 

“I’ll get the bill,” Louis said. 

*

Neither of them spoke as they walked down the high street. Louis was trying to concentrate on his breathing, he didn’t want to pass out before he got Harry home. He didn’t dare even look at Harry. He wanted too much. He wanted to hold his hand. He wanted to push him against a wall and kiss him until their lips were sore. He wanted to straddle him and grind into him and come all over that fucking butterfly. 

As they turned the last corner before home, Louis couldn’t resist reaching out to Harry, his knuckles knocking against Harry’s. He heard Harry gasp and then felt one of Harry’s fingers stroke down the back of his hand, before hooking quickly around Louis’ middle finger and then letting go. 

They didn’t even pause outside Harry’s house, walking straight past to Louis’. Louis   
opened the gate and felt Harry close behind him as they walked up the driveway. His hands were trembling as he unlocked the front door and then they were inside the house and Louis was pushing Harry into the hall wall, Harry’s hands on his hips, pulling him hard against his body. Louis pressed his mouth to Harry’s and Harry sucked at Louis’ bottom lip. 

“Fuck,” Louis breathed. “Harry. I want...” He rutted his hips against Harry’s thigh. “I want…” 

“I want you,” Harry said, against Louis’ mouth. “I’ve wanted you all night.” 

Groaning, Louis forced himself to step back. “I need to--” was as far as he got before he was moving, pulling Harry through the house with him. He dropped down onto the sofa and Harry dropped to his knees on the floor in front of him. 

“God, Harry,” Louis said. 

“Can I?” Harry said, looking up at him from under his fringe. “I want to.” 

“Fuck,” Louis said, shifting back on the seat. “Please.” 

He moved to undo his jeans, but Harry reached up too and gently pushed Louis’ hands out of the way. Louis couldn’t look at him. He tipped his head back on the sofa and closed his eyes. Harry pulled Louis’ jeans open and pushed a hand inside. Louis’ hips jerked up and he had to bite his lip to stop himself coming there and then. Harry pulled Louis’ jeans down further, almost to his knees. Then he took Louis’ cock out and Louis groaned as he felt Harry’s hair brush against the inside of his thighs. 

“Just…” Harry said and Louis felt him move away. He wanted to hook his thighs around him and pull him back. 

“Are you…?” Louis lifted his head and opened his eyes. 

Harry was reaching behind his head, sliding his hands through his hair, pulling it up into a bun. Louis looked at the birds on his chest, the line of his throat, his mouth. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He couldn’t believe he was so lucky. 

“Sorry,” Harry said, voice rough, before leaning forward again, his hands on the sofa either side of Louis thighs, and sucked the tip of Louis’ dick into his mouth. 

Louis dropped his head back again as his hips bucked up against Harry. He felt Harry’s hands on his hips, holding him down, and he didn’t know how he was going to last for even a minute. Harry’s tongue slid down the underside of Louis’ dick and he was so hard. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been so hard. He gripped the sofa cushions and squeezed his eyes shut. 

“God, Louis,” Harry murmured, kissing down the length of Louis’ cock to lick just behind his balls. “You’re so…” He sucked one of Louis’ balls into his mouth and Louis yelled out, banging his head back against the sofa. 

Harry’s mouth moved back up again, tongue swirling and flicking against the thick vein on the underside of Louis’ dick. He followed his mouth with one hand, gripping Louis’ dick tightly as his other hand still held Louis’ hip down, his thumb pressing into the crease at the top of Louis’ thigh. 

“I can’t…” Louis moaned, biting his bottom lip and squeezing his eyes tight. “Harry, I’m gonna--” 

“Look at me,” he heard Harry say. 

Louis lifted his head and opened his eyes and saw Harry suck him down, lips stretched around Louis’ cock. He arched up off the sofa as he came with a shout.


	5. Chapter 5

Louis still hadn’t properly come down - he was breathing heavily, eyes tight shut, stars still bursting behind his eyelids - when he heard Harry groan and felt Harry’s head heavy against his leg. He looked down to see Harry, forehead pressing into Louis’ thigh, grunting as his arm jerked between his legs. 

“Harry,” Louis said, his voice breaking as he slid one hand round the back of the other man’s neck. Harry threw his head back, trapping Louis’ fingers, as his face contorted - his eyes scrunched closed, eyebrows drawn together, teeth gritted - and he let out another groan before slumping forward against Louis’ thigh. 

Louis petted at Harry’s hair and Harry turned his head, one cheek on Louis’ leg, and grinned up at him. “Hi.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Louis said, laughing. “That was… Fuck, Harry.” 

“You’ve said that,” Harry said, twisting away from Louis and then moving up to sit on the sofa, pressed right up against Louis’ side. “I like your home,” Harry said. 

Louis barked out a laugh. “Thank you.” 

“Want to show me the bedroom?” Harry dropped his forehead down on to Louis’ shoulder. 

“Fuck,” Louis said again. “Give me a minute. I’m not sure I can walk.” 

“I mean, I could probably carry you.” Harry kissed under Louis’ ear and Louis hissed out a breath. 

“Fuck off.” 

Harry laughed. “Just let me know when you’re ready.” 

Louis stared straight ahead - he could just about see himself and Harry reflected in the floor to ceiling windows opposite. 

“Are they one-way glass?” Harry said. 

Louis laughed. “I can’t believe you’re only asking that now.” 

He felt Harry shrug against him. “Didn’t really have time to think about it earlier. I was a bit busy. And I had my back to them.” 

Louis felt himself flush, picturing Harry on his knees in front of him, looking up at him, Louis’ dick in his mouth. 

“God,” he said. “Yeah. They’re one-way. But I’m not really overlooked anyway, so.” 

“Noted,” Harry said and Louis felt Harry’s mouth against his skin again. Just at the spot where his neck met his shoulder. 

“That was--” Louis started, but stopped when Harry shifted his body so he could lean further over and kiss the other side of Louis’ neck, his chest brushing against Louis’ 

“What happened to me letting you know when I’m ready?” Louis said into Harry’s hair. 

“Just thought I’d move things along a bit,” Harry murmured. He started to suck at the soft spot just above Louis’ collarbone and, god, it felt so good. Louis tipped his head back and closed his eyes... and then he realised exactly what Harry was doing. 

“Oh shit. Harry, no. You can’t… you can’t leave a mark.” 

Harry’s head jerked back. “Fuck. Sorry. I didn’t even think.” 

Louis shook his head. “It’s all right.” 

Harry rubbed his thumb across the spot where his mouth had just been. “I don’t think I have. I think it’ll be ok.” 

“I’m sorry,” Louis said, tugging at one of the curls that had fallen down from Harry’s bun. 

“No,” Harry said, leaning back against Louis’ shoulder. “I didn’t think.” 

“You could,” Louis said, something fluttering low in his stomach, “you could do it somewhere that won’t be seen.” 

He felt Harry smile against his shoulder and then Harry said, “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Louis said, his voice cracking. 

“Do you think we can go upstairs now?” Harry said. 

“Yeah,” Louis breathed. 

 

Harry looked tall in Louis’ bedroom, Louis thought. Then he thought that was probably a weird thing to think. But he hadn’t had anyone else in this room. When he was with Nick, he’d been living in an apartment overlooking the Thames, but they’d mostly spent time at Nick’s place anyway. So it was kind of weird to have someone in his room. But also not so weird because it was Harry. 

Harry who was sitting at the foot of Louis’ bed, his long legs stretched out in front of him, smiling up at Louis. He’d pulled his hair down from its bun on their way up the stairs and now it fell down around his shoulders, curling at the ends. 

“I like your room,” he said. 

“It’s…” Louis started, glancing around at the gray walls and carpet. “It was like this when I bought the house. I was going to change it, but I never got round to it.” 

“S’good,” Harry said. “Relaxing.” 

Louis tugged his t-shirt down over his hips, still staring at Harry. Louis had left one of the bedside lamps on when he’d gone out - he left lights on in pretty much every room all the time, he hated coming home to a dark house - and so while he could see Harry, he was still mostly in shadow. 

“Louis,” Harry said. 

“Hm?” Louis said. 

“Take that off and come over here.” 

Louis’ breath caught and he felt his dick stirring again. Already. He lifted the bottom of his t-shirt and pulled it off over his head. 

“Fucking hell, Louis,” Harry said, shifting back on the bed. “You’re so gorgeous.” 

Louis huffed out a laugh. “You’re gorgeous.” He couldn’t believe how gorgeous. He couldn’t believe Harry was sitting there at the end of his bed with his long legs and his blue shirt and his fucking tattoos and his hair. 

“Come here,” Harry said. 

Louis moved until he was standing between Harry’s thighs. He could hear his breath coming too fast, but he pushed his hands into Harry’s hair, scratching gently at his scalp, tipping his head back. Harry’s eyes closed and his mouth opened and Louis just stared at him for a second before leaning down to press his lips to Harry’s. Harry sighed and Louis slid his tongue across Harry’s bottom lip, then into his mouth, tangling with Harry’s. It was slower than their earlier kiss. More focussed. Louis turned his head, stepping even closer to Harry, feeling Harry’s shirt brushing against his bare chest, one of Harry’s big hands sliding up his back to his shoulder. Louis pulled back, pressing kisses down Harry’s jaw, as Harry’s other hand pushed up into Louis’ hair. Harry’s jaw was perfect and Louis wanted to kiss his neck and his shoulder and his chest. Those birds, god. But more than that he wanted his mouth on Harry’s. He pecked at the corner of his mouth and Harry opened up to him again. 

Louis had liked kissing Nick. He had. Nick had been a good kisser. And Nick had loved kissing, had often been happy just kissing. But it was different with Harry. Louis could feel it under his skin. He felt like he was melting, but at the same time as if he was electrified. It felt more right than anything he’d ever experienced. Kissing Harry was sexier than sex had been with Nick. Fuck. 

Louis pulled back and gazed down at Harry. Harry blinked his eyes open slowly and stared back at Louis. 

“Why are you still wearing so many clothes?” Harry said, his voice low and slow. 

“Hey,” Louis said, breathlessly. “You’re wearing more than me.” 

One side of Harry’s mouth quirked up in a smile and he leaned back, his hands behind him on Louis’ bed, and raised his chin in challenge. 

Louis laughed and reached out to undo the buttons on Harry’s shirt. The few buttons that were still fastened after Harry’s tattoo reveal at the restaurant. Louis’ chest hitched as his knuckles grazed the butterfly. 

“I can’t believe this,” Louis said. 

“The butterfly?” 

“Yeah. I… When I saw it. In the restaurant.” 

Harry grinned. “I remember.” 

“I wanted to climb over the table.” 

“I could tell. The waiter was blushing.” 

Louis shook his head, his mouth twisted to one side in amusement, as he pushed Harry’s shirt back off his shoulders. Harry pulled his arms out of the sleeves and let the shirt fall down on the bed. 

“Fucking hell,” Louis said. His dick was painfully hard, caught behind the waistband of his pants. Harry had obviously noticed because he reached out and grazed his knuckles over it. Louis’ stomach muscles jerked as he curled into Harry’s touch. He looked down as Harry’s long fingers moved to Louis’ fly, tugging the button open and sliding the zip down. Louis looked at Harry, who was biting his lip in concentration, his eyes wide and dark. Louis wanted to yank his own jeans off, push Harry back on the bed and straddle him, but he forced himself to stay still and let Harry do it. Harry pushed Louis’ jeans and underwear down past his hips - Louis’ cock, hard again, springing free - and tugged them down to his knees. 

“I think you’ll need to do the rest,” Harry said, his voice rough. 

“Shit,” Louis said. He tried to toe off his shoes, but he couldn’t do it. He should’ve worn his fucking Vans after all. He dropped down on the bed next to Harry, yanking off his Converse and dropping them to the floor. 

“Cute socks,” Harry said. 

Louis snorted and pulled his socks off too, before tugging his jeans off his feet. He’d been so busy dragging himself out of his clothes, that he hadn’t given enough thought to what happened when he was done. Which was that he was naked. In front of Harry. Who was still half-dressed. 

He had a moment of wanting to scuttle up the bed and hide under the duvet until Harry was naked too, but instead he turned to Harry and said, “Your turn.” 

Harry stood up, his hands already on his belt. Louis glanced down and realised Harry had already taken off his boots and socks. He had no idea when he could have done that. Harry undid his own jeans and pushed them down and Louis stared at his cock, big and hard and curving up towards his belly. 

“Fuck, Harry,” Louis breathed. He wanted to lean forward and put his mouth on it. He felt his fingers twitching against the bed. 

Harry was pushing his stupidly tight jeans down slowly, his hips moving from side to side. Louis’ mouth was dry. He glanced up to see Harry staring down at him, his hair hanging down either side of his face, mouth slightly open. 

“Fuck, Harry!” Louis said. “Come on!” 

Harry laughed and bent slightly, pushing his jeans down the rest of the way and stepping on them to push them off his feet. “I was trying to be sexy there, do you mind?” 

“You were sexy. You are sexy. Fuck. I can’t… I need you to--” 

“What?” Harry said, stepping between Louis’ legs. “What do you want to do?” 

‘I want you to fuck me,’ Louis thought. He huffed out a breath and thought about saying it. Harry would. Harry wanted to, he was pretty sure. “I want you to kiss me,” he said instead.

Harry groaned and pushed him back onto the bed, his lips firm against Louis’, tongue sliding into his mouth, teeth crashing together. Louis slid his hands up Harry’s sides, over his ribs, dragged his knuckles over Harry’s shoulders and down his muscled arms. His skin was warm and soft and exactly what Louis had been expecting. He was holding himself up with his arms and Louis wanted to feel him, all of him. He wanted Harry’s weight on top of him. 

“Wait,” he said against Harry’s mouth. 

“Are you ok?” Harry said immediately, pulling back to look down at Louis. 

“Yeah,” Louis said. “I just want to move. Up the bed.” 

Harry grinned and lifted himself away from Louis, dropping heavily down onto the mattress. Louis scooted up the bed and then turned to look at Harry, who’d moved up next to him. 

“Hey,” he said. 

“Hey.” Harry smiled back. 

And then he was on top of Louis again, his knees bracketing Louis’ hips. His dick grazed Louis’ and Louis jerked up into it, but Harry leaned down and kissed Louis’ mouth quickly, before moving down to kiss his neck, his shoulder. Louis felt Harry’s teeth gently graze his collarbone and then he felt his tongue - Harry’s tongue - on his chest. On the tattoo. He grabbed Harry’s shoulders, fingers digging into the muscle.

Harry had started at the beginning of ‘It Is What It Is’, sweeping his tongue over the curl of the I, lathing it down over the T. Louis closed his eyes and tried to focus on what Harry was doing. He tried to picture the tattoo, tried to follow the letters through Harry’s tongue, but he was more turned on than he’d ever been in his life so he struggled to keep track. 

“Harry,” he groaned as Harry licked over the H and then higher to the dip of Louis’ throat. Louis’ hips jerked up and Harry pressed down, stilling him on the bed. He grabbed at Harry’s hips, grinding up, trying to get even a little bit of friction, but Harry just hummed against his skin and carried on licking. Slowly. By the time Harry’s tongue curled over the end of the S, Louis was desperate and whimpering. Harry’s weight meant he couldn’t shift his hips, but he could feel his dick hard and leaking against Harry’s skin. 

Harry raised himself up and looked down at Louis. He looked as affected as Louis. How could he possibly be? Just from licking over Louis’ tattoo. 

“Harry,” Louis groaned. 

“Come on me,” Harry said and his voice was wrecked. “I want you to come on me.” 

Louis groaned and jerked his hips again. He wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d come there and then. “Get on your back,” he said. 

Harry dropped down heavily next to him and Louis crawled up over him, his knees either side of Harry’s hips. Harry looked so incredibly beautiful - his lips swollen, his eyes dark, Louis leaned down to kiss him again, his dick brushing up against Harry’s abs. 

“Louis,” Harry whimpered against his mouth and Louis forced himself to sit up again. He could feel his balls brushing against Harry’s belly, his feet pressed against the outside of Harry’s thighs. He pressed his dick against his belly with the flat of his hand and rutted quickly against Harry. He wanted to fuck him. He wanted to be inside him. To watch Harry fall apart because of him. Instead he reached out one finger and traced it across the laurel leaves tattooed across Harry’s belly. 

“Louis,” Harry said again. He lifted his head to look down at Louis’ finger on him before dropping back down onto the mattress. “Please.” 

Louis gripped the base of his dick tightly to try to postpone his orgasm, and moved slowly backwards down the bed. 

“What are you--” Harry said again, but then Louis was lying down between Harry’s thighs, his tongue sliding slowly across the laurel tattoo on the left. He tried to do what Harry had done and lick over every bit of it, but he couldn’t do it, he was too turned on and he didn’t want to come like this, against the mattress. He wanted to come on Harry, like Harry had asked. Instead he licked a long stripe along the stem, stopping just under Harry’s navel where his dick was straining and leaking. 

Louis flicked his tongue across the tip and Harry’s hips jerked up hard. 

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Louis.” 

Louis sucked the tip of Harry’s dick full into his mouth - reaching down to palm his own hardness - then pulled off and moved over to the other laurel tattoo. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Harry’s hand grasping at the bedding. He wanted to suck his fingers. He wanted Harry’s fingers inside him. He wanted everything. 

He moved back to Harry’s dick and sucked him right down. 

Harry let out an almost animal sound, his hips jerking, and Louis grabbed the base of Harry’s dick, sliding his hand up to meet his mouth. He swirled his tongue over the head of Harry’s cock, curling it under Harry’s foreskin as he jerked his hand over the silky skin. He flicked his tongue over Harry’s hole and swallowed the resulting blurt of pre-come. He pulled back, rubbing Harry’s wet cock over his lips, as he looked up along Harry’s long torso, and saw Harry was up on his elbows watching him, sweaty tendrils of hair stuck to his face. Keeping his eyes on Harry’s, Louis sucked him back down again, hollowing his cheeks and swirling his tongue. 

“Uh,” Harry groaned, his cock jerking in Louis’ mouth. “Fuck. I’m gonna come. Lou--” 

Louis kept sucking as Harry came in his mouth, swallowing it down. He could feel his own orgasm building and he pulled off Harry and dragged himself up the bed, legs bracketing Harry’s waist. 

“Please,” Harry said, head tipped back, eyes closed. 

Louis grabbed his own dick, his thumb brushing over the head to spread pre-come down the length. It only took a couple of fast pulls before he was coming, leaning forward, one arm braced on the bed, the tip of his dick grazing Harry’s belly. He felt Harry’s hands on his hips as he cried out, watching his come painting Harry’s butterfly. And then he dropped forward, lying on top of Harry, his face pressed into the side of his neck. 

“Jesus Christ,” Harry said. 

Louis couldn’t even speak. He’d had the two best orgasms of his life in the past hour and he felt like he’d been electrocuted. He could feel his muscles tensing and relaxing. And something else. The thing in his chest. The thing he couldn’t identify. 

“Can I stay over?” Harry asked, his mouth against Louis hair. 

“You’ll have to,” Louis said, “cos I’m not moving.” 

“We can’t go to sleep like this.” Harry laughed lightly, one hand smoothing over Louis’ back. “We’re gross.” 

“Later,” Louis said, shifting very slightly so his full weight wasn’t on Harry, but he was still mostly stuck to his side. Possibly literally. “M’tired now.” 

“Okay,” Harry said and Louis felt Harry’s lips on his temple. “Okay.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Sorry,” Harry said, his voice low. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” 

Louis blinked up at Harry, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, but had turned back - leaning on his outstretched arm - to look at Louis. Louis could barely see him in the darkness, but he still looked beautiful, the muscles moving in his back, his hair hanging down between his shoulder blades. 

“S’okay,” Louis said, his voice rough and croaky. “You ok?” 

“I just wanted to clean off a bit,” Harry said. 

“Hang on,” Louis said. He stretched his legs down the bed, feeling a pleasant ache in his hamstrings. God, he needed to do more exercise if he was actually aching from sex. He rolled onto his side, away from Harry, and pulled open the top drawer of his bedside unit. He pulled out a packet of baby wipes and threw them down onto the bed between him and Harry. 

Harry dropped back down onto the mattress and pulled out a couple of wipes. Louis tugged some out and reached down under the duvet. He winced at the coldness of the wipes on his warm belly, but his dick was half-stuck to the top of his thigh, so he got Harry’s point. 

“Need a wee,” Harry said, sitting back up and swung his long legs off the side of the bed. He walked round the bed, heading for the bathroom, and Louis propped himself up on his elbows to watch him. He was so fucking gorgeous: his long hair and torso, his dick hanging heavy between his legs. He held out his hand for Louis’ used wipes and Louis handed them over, watching Harry’s arse as he padded into the bathroom. 

Louis dropped back onto his pillows, his dick twitching against his thigh. Shit. Harry was staying over and he wasn’t freaking out. Was he? He closed his eyes and thought about it. The first time he’d slept with Nick had been at Louis’ flat on the Thames and he’d made him leave after. And Nick had been pissed off. Louis hadn’t realised at the time, but Nick had told him after. Told him that Louis had made him feel like shit. And then Louis had felt like shit too. But he remembered how he’d felt that night. That he needed time to himself. That fucking Nick had been a lot and that Nick staying over would have been too much. 

He didn’t feel like that now. He didn’t think he’d had anywhere near enough of Harry, never mind too much. The restless panicky feeling he’d had when he’d realised Nick had expected to stay was how he felt now if he thought about Harry leaving. 

He heard the loo flush and then the water running in the sink and then he felt the bed dip down as Harry climbed in next to him. 

“Hey,” Harry said, his mouth close to Louis’ ear. “You still sleepy?” 

Louis smiled. “Nah. I’m wide awake now.” He opened his eyes and turned to look at Harry. 

“Want to talk?” Harry said. 

Louis huffed out a laugh. “Actually yeah. I do.” 

“What’s your favourite colour?” Harry said, smiling. 

“Didn’t you learn that when you googled? It’s dark red. Like that t-shirt I was wearing tonight.” 

“I liked that t-shirt,” Harry said, pressing his mouth to Louis’ shoulder. 

“I noticed,” Louis said. “What’s yours? Favourite colour?” 

“Orange, I think,” Harry said. “Like a sunset. Favourite film?” 

“Grease. I played Danny Zuko at school.” 

“I would’ve liked to have seen that.” Harry trailed his fingers down Louis’ arm. “I bet you look good in leather.” 

Louis pictured Harry in leather and almost gasped for breath. “Yours?” 

“Love, Actually.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Louis said, laughing. “Who even are you?” 

“I’m a romantic,” Harry said, fingers sliding down the back of Louis’ hand. “Favourite song?” 

Louis closed his eyes. “Um. It’s Look After You by The Fray.” 

He felt Harry’s fingers sliding between his own, curling up into his palm. “I don’t know that one. But I love How to Save a Life.” 

“I sang that for my audition,” Louis said. 

“Oh yeah,” Harry murmured. “I’d forgotten.” 

“What’s yours?” Louis said. Harry’s fingertips were stroking the palm of his hand and his brain was starting to go a bit fuzzy. 

“What?” Harry asked. 

“Your favourite song.” 

“Oh yeah. Free Fallin’. John Mayer version.” He lifted Louis hand to his mouth, pressed his lips to the knuckles. 

Louis squeezed his eyes shut and dug the fingers of his other hand into the mattress. 

“When did you know you liked me?” Harry asked, lips on the back of Louis’ hand. 

“Oh we’re moving onto the harder questions now, are we?” Louis smiled. 

“Yep,” Harry said, popping the p. “That was just a warm-up.” 

“Like you?” Louis asked. “Or fancy you?” 

“Like me first,” Harry said. “And then fancy me.” 

“I thought you were interesting,” Louis said, shifting his hips so he could turn towards Harry a little. “At first. I thought someone who’d bring a stranger a bottle of milk was either someone I should get to know or someone I should steer well clear of.” 

Harry laughed. 

“So I was intrigued from the beginning, I s’pose. And then when I picked you up--” 

Harry snorted. 

“Gave you a lift,” Louis’ clarified. “And you said you’d come to London to find out who you are. That’s when I knew I was in trouble. And then you said your mum and your sister are your best friends and I thought ‘oh shit’.” 

Harry laughed again, rubbing his jaw against Louis’ hand. “Why?” 

“Which one?” 

“Either. Both.” 

“The ‘find yourself’ bit… because that’s the kind of stuff I don’t let myself think about,” Louis said, glancing at Harry’s face and then looking back up at the ceiling. “And there you were just saying it right out to someone you didn’t know, you’d only just met. That kind of openness…” Louis turned and pressed his mouth to Harry’s shoulder. “It’s… I feel like that’s what I’ve missed out on. Being famous from so young. Relatively young. I feel like I missed out on those kind of conversations. So I liked that about you. And I thought… I wanted to know.” 

“Know what?” Harry ran a finger down Louis’ cheekbone. 

“Who you are.” Louis huffed out a breath. “And then the best friend thing is just cos, well, my mum’s my best friend. So I liked that yours is too. What about you? When did you like me?” 

“Uhhhhh,” Harry said. “Louis Tomlinson Popstar or Louis Tomlinson from   
Doncaster.”

“God,” Louis said. “Both. I s’pose.” 

“Ok. So Louis Tomlinson Popstar…” Harry was holding Louis’ hand with both of his now. He turned it over and ran his thumb across the palm. “I liked you from your first audition. I liked your voice, obviously, and you were confident but not cocky. And you were so fucking cute.” 

Louis covered his face with his free hand. “I was a dick.” 

“You were not. You were so lovely. But it was at the final that I really…” He pressed a kiss to Louis’ palm and Louis’ cock twitched with interest. “You were doing an interview,” Harry said, in his low, slow voice. “Talking to the camera. And you laughed and you looked really happy and then your face changed and you dropped your eyes and glanced at the camera and did this sort of shy smile and I felt like--” 

“I remember that,” Louis said, his stomach fluttering with something that felt like panic. “You felt like what?” 

“I felt like I wanted to… rescue you.” 

Louis laughed, but there was no amusement behind it. “God.” 

Harry leaned up on one elbow and looked down at Louis. “Do you want to stop talking about this?” 

“No. It’s interesting. I didn’t know that’s something anyone would have noticed.” 

“I didn’t really understand it. I was, like, 15? And as far as I knew you were in the final of this show and about to become rich and famous - I was sure you were going to win - so I didn’t know what you needed to be rescued from, I just… something seemed off. I was scared for you.” 

“Fucking hell, Harry.” Louis pulled his hand out of Harry’s and rubbed both hands over his face. “You know what that was about? We had to do media training. Which I’d thought was going to be about telling us how to deal with interviews, photo sessions and everything. But it quickly became about making me be less gay.” 

Harry sucked in a breath, his eyebrows pulling together in a frown. “They said that?” 

“Oh no. They said ‘theatrical’ and ‘flamboyant’. And I’d done school theatre, I was cool with being theatrical, you know. And I’d described myself as flamboyant - maybe in my first audition, I can’t remember. I thought it meant dramatic and funny and confident and, you know, like it was a clever way of saying ‘show-off’. Which I totally was. But no, turns out it means gay. And they wanted me to knock it off.” 

“I’m sorry,” Harry said, still staring at Louis’ intently. 

Louis looked away. “Yeah. Thanks. It’s shit, but, what can you do?”

Harry leaned over and brushed his lips across Louis’. 

“Tell me about Louis Tomlinson from Doncaster,” Louis said. “Unless that story’s really fucked up too.” 

Harry smiled. “Oh that was when he picked me up in his car... Well, first of all that was still a Louis Tomlinson Popstar thing, actually. I used to have this fantasy...” 

“Oh yeah,” Louis said, reaching out and knocking his knuckles into Harry’s chest. 

“Not like that,” Harry said. Then he grinned. “Actually it was a bit like that. But really it was just about being picked up from school. There was this lad at school who sort of took the piss out of me. A lot. He was new and it was a showing off thing, I think. Anyway, I used to think ‘I’ll show you’ all the time and one of the things I used to think was that - don’t laugh.” 

Louis smiled. “I’ll try.” 

“That Robbie Williams would come and pick me up. In a convertible, obviously. And I’d get in and be like ‘Bye, suckers!’ Actually, not even that. I used to think that I’d just look past him - Tyler, his name was - and he’d know that he wasn’t even worth my time cos I was swanning off somewhere with Robbie.” 

Louis laughed. “Wow. And then, what, he’d take you gently but firmly over the bonnet?” 

“Shut it.” Harry hooked a leg over Louis’. 

“I used to have fantasies about Robbie too,” Louis said, turning onto his side to face Harry, feeling Harry’s dick brush against his hip. “But they were more about him in the Rock DJ video. I think that video was the first time I ever wanked to a man actually.” 

“Please tell me you don’t mean the bit where he’s ripped his skin off,” Harry said, mouth quirking with amusement. 

Louis barked out a laugh. “Fuck. No. But I do think that’s a pretty good metaphor for fame, you know.” 

“Christ,” Harry said. 

“Sorry,” Louis said. “I keep doing that. Talk more about wanking.” 

Harry nibbled at the knot of bone on the top of Louis’ shoulder, his hair falling down to brush over Louis’ chest. “Tell me when you first fancied me.” 

Louis groaned, his dick already twitching at the memory. He rolled back onto his back, reaching down to palm at himself. 

“From the first time I saw you.” He didn’t know how Harry could make him say the things he never thought he’d say, but apparently he could. 

“On the entry phone?” Harry said, his mouth close to Louis’ ear, voice low and deep. 

“Yeah,” Louis said, but it came out as a breath. 

“And what did you do? Did you jerk off, thinking about me?” 

“God, Harry,” Louis said. He wanted to pull his legs up, roll over onto his side, protect himself. But he also wanted to curl into Harry and tell him everything. About everything. Fuck. 

“Did you?” Harry scraped his teeth against the soft part behind Louis’ ear and Louis groaned, “Yes.” 

“When? Later? Or straight away?” 

“Straight away,” Louis said. “I was hard when we were talking.” 

“So then what did you do?” Harry walked his fingers down Louis’ ribs and Louis wrapped his fingers around his cock, holding it loosely. 

“I went… ah.” He took a breath. “I went into the bedroom.” 

“Did you lie on the bed?” Harry’s thumb rubbed circles against Louis’ hip. Louis wanted to   
grab his hand and pull it onto his cock, but he also wanted to just lie there and let Harry take care of him. God. He felt that twist in his stomach again. 

“What did you think about,” Harry said, his mouth wet against Louis’ neck. 

“First,” Louis said. “First I thought that I’d have buzzed you in and you’d blown me in the hall, next to the entryphone.” 

“God,” Harry said and Louis could feel him smiling. “That’s a bit forward.” 

Louis laughed and it helped. “And then,” he said. “And then I thought we were in the kitchen, cos you… you brought me the milk.” 

“I did,” Harry said, slipping under the covers to press his mouth to Louis’ ribs. “I did bring you the milk.” 

“And then I thought about fucking you over the kitchen table,” Louis said, gripping his cock more tightly. 

He heard Harry gasp and he was glad. Glad Harry was affected too. 

“Tell me,” Harry said, his voice impossibly deeper as he kissed back up Louis’ chest before curling up next to him again, his face pressed into Louis’ neck, one hand huge on Louis’ soft belly, low enough that the tip of Louis’ dick was brushing against his little finger. He rutted his hips slowly against the top of Louis’ thigh and Louis felt Harry’s dick, hard and wet against his skin. 

“I bent you over the table,” Louis said, hand slowly sliding over his own cock. “And fucked you. Hard. And I reached round and jerked you off at the same time. And when you came, I bit your shoulder and--” 

“Ah fuck, Lou!” Harry cried out and Louis felt his hips jerking against Louis’ hip as his fingers curled into Louis’ belly. 

“Fuck!” Louis said. “Harry.” 

Harry bucked against Louis’ hip and Louis felt his hot come splatter against his skin as   
Harry whimpered, his head pressed into Louis’ neck. 

Letting go of his own cock, Louis rolled onto his side and pulled Harry against him, feeling the come that Harry had just shot up his own stomach and chest smearing between them. Harry pulled back to look at him, his eyes wide and dark. 

“I can’t believe you did that,” Louis said, staring back at him. He could feel Harry still shuddering lightly with the aftershocks. “That was the hottest fucking thing…” He jerked his own hips up against Harry’s, his dick sliding in the wetness between them. 

“I love your voice,” Harry said. “I always thought I could come just from listening to you, so…” 

Louis groaned and pushed Harry onto his back, rolling on top of him and bracing Harry’s hips with his thighs. “You are so fucking sexy.” 

“Says you,” Harry said, lifting his head to bite gently at Louis’ lower lip. 

Louis whimpered and dropped himself back down on top of Harry, pushing his hips up, his too-hard dick sliding against Harry’s belly. 

“Can you come like this?” Harry said, against his mouth. 

“Fuck,” Louis moaned. “Yes.” 

“Keep doing that,” Harry said, his voice rough. He slid one hand down Louis back as his other hand held the back of Louis’ neck. Harry licked into Louis’ mouth as his fingers slid down between Louis’ arse cheeks and one fingertip grazed over his hole. 

“Fuck,” Louis said, pulling back from Harry’s mouth. “Fuck. Harry.” 

“Is this ok?” Harry said. 

Louis made a sound that he hoped Harry would interpret as yes, before sliding his tongue back into Harry’s mouth and moving his hips faster against Harry. He felt desperate. He wanted to come, but he didn’t want this feeling to end. Louis moaned as Harry took his hand away from his arse, but then he felt it pushing between their lips. Harry sucked his own finger before reaching back down and sliding it slowly inside Louis and Louis arched up off the bed. 

“Jesus Christ!” 

“Ok?” Harry said. 

Louis groaned, dropping down onto Harry again. “S’good,” he said against Harry’s neck. “Feels so good, Harry. Don’t stop. Ah!” 

Harry’s finger was moving slowly, curling inside him. Harry’s finger was inside him. Louis pushed his arse back, wanting more, his dick slipping between their bodies. He looked down at Harry, who was looking up at him, mouth open, forehead furrowed with concentration. Louis licked into his mouth, sucked at Harry’s tongue, their teeth knocking together. He reached down and grabbed Harry’s hand, interlacing their fingers, lifting Harry’s arm to press his hand back into the mattress. Louis’ feet flexed, his toes pressing into the bed, as he felt Harry’s finger brush against his prostate. He dropped down and pressed his mouth against the black star tattoo on the underside of Harry’s arm, his hips moving faster. Louis opened his mouth and started to suck at Harry’s skin. 

“Louis! Fuck, yes,” Harry moaned. “Please.” 

Louis’ hips stuttered as he came hard against Harry’s belly, his face pressed to Harry’s arm, his eyes screwed tight. 

“Holy fucking shit,” he said, as he finally finished coming. He moved slightly to rest his forehead against Harry’s collarbone. “That was… fuck.” 

Harry gently tugged his hand out of Louis’ and smoothed it down his back, resting it on   
Louis’ waist along with his other hand. Louis hadn’t even noticed him take that one away. 

“I don’t know which Louis Tomlinson that was,” Harry said into Louis’ hair. “But he’s a really good shag.” 

Louis smiled against Harry’s skin. He was in so much trouble.


	7. Chapter 7

Louis had been staring into the fridge for a while. So long that the light had gone off. And yet he still hadn’t found anything he wanted to eat. He’d had four cups of tea and his stomach felt jumpy and he knew he should eat something, but what? 

He should’ve let Harry make him breakfast like he’d offered. But Louis hadn’t wanted Harry to waste time scrambling eggs and grilling bacon that he could have spent naked in Louis’ bed, so he’d told Harry he wasn’t hungry and he’d crawled down his ridiculously beautiful body to suck him off again and they’d both forgotten about breakfast. 

They’d fallen back to sleep then - Louis’ face pressed into Harry’s shoulder - until the alarm on Harry’s phone had woken them. 

“Work,” he’d said, his mouth in Louis’ hair. 

“Quit,” Louis had mumbled and Harry had laughed, his fingers drifting down Louis’ chest, nails scratching lightly. 

“I can’t. But I can come back? After?” 

“Yeah?” Louis said. He’d been about to suggest it, of course he had. “We could get pizza? And watch a film?” 

“Hmm,” Harry said, in his ridiculous slow voice. “Netflix and chill?” 

“Fuck off.” Louis had turned and bitten Harry’s nipple gently. But it was still enough to make Harry groan, his back arching up off the bed. 

“Oh,” Louis said. “That’s interesting.” He pushed himself up on one elbow, tracing the top of Harry’s butterfly tattoo with his index finger before circling Harry’s nipple. 

“I haven’t…” Harry mumbled, biting down on his bottom lip, “got time…”

Louis pinched his nipple between finger and thumb and rolled it gently. 

“I’ve got to go,” Harry said. But he wasn’t moving. Well, apart from his hips, bucking up against the quilt. 

“Okay,” Louis said, cheerfully, dropping back against the pillows, ignoring his own half-hard dick. “Later then. What do you want on the pizza?” 

“You little--” Harry had said then, lurching up and on top of Louis, biting at Louis’ lip and licking into his mouth. 

“You’re going to be late,” Louis mumbled into Harry’s mouth. 

“Shut up,” Harry said. “Anyway…” He slid down Louis’ body, kissing his neck, his collarbone, his ribs. “I remembered that I promised you something…” 

“Yeah?” Louis breathed, his body automatically moving towards Harry’s mouth like a flower turning towards the sun. 

“Yeah,” Harry had said, licking slowly along Louis’ hip bone, before moving on again. 

Louis waited - breath coming fast, toes curling against the mattress - for Harry to put his mouth on his straining cock. But Harry kept moving and then Louis felt his lips on the soft skin of his inner thigh. 

“Harry,” Louis said, reaching down and tangling his hands into Harry’s hair as Harry licked and sucked at Louis’ skin. 

Louis had never really been into lovebites, he didn’t see the point and he wasn’t a fan of being marked, but with Harry... He could hear Harry moaning as he worked on the bruise, his big hands pressing Louis’ thighs down into the bed and it was one of the most erotic experiences of his life. Harry stopped sucking - Louis felt his teeth lightly graze the skin - and then he licked over the mark he’d just made. 

“There,” he said, his voice quiet, and it was so intimate that Louis felt tears prick his eyes.   
Harry slid further down the bed, pausing only to press a quick kiss to Louis’ left ankle and then he clambered out from under the duvet at the foot of the bed, stood up and grinned at Louis. 

“Hi-ho, hi-ho,” he said. 

Louis stared at him. His lips looked swollen and he had a scuff of beard rash on his jaw. His hair was tangled, but hanging down almost to his nipples, covering the birds. His dick was half-hard, just from touching Louis. Louis could hardly believe he was real. 

“What are you doing today?” Harry asked as he padded towards the bathroom, one hand pressing his dick back against his belly. 

“Apparently first I need to deal with this hard-on you’ve given me,” Louis said, faux-casually, his eyes on Harry’s. 

Harry paused and stared back at Louis, his eyes darkening as he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. Louis watched his long fingers curl slowly around his dick. 

“It’s fine,” Louis said, pushing the covers down so the tip of his cock was visible above the duvet. “I can totally deal with it myself. You get yourself to work, love.” 

“Fucking hell,” Harry had said, before throwing himself back onto the bed and Louis. 

*

Louis took out a packet of cheese slices and thought about making himself cheese on toast, but then just pulled a slice of cheese out, peeled off the cellophane and folded the bright yellow square into his mouth. He missed Harry. He did. It was ridiculous. He’d lived on his own for over a year and he’d known Harry for just a few days, but he missed him. He’d wanted him to skip work and stay. But Harry had flat out refused. Because Harry was conscientious. And responsible. And Louis… Louis was bored. And lonely. And horny. Permanently bloody horny. 

Right on cue, his phone vibrated on the kitchen island and Louis felt his stomach flutter at the thought that it might be Harry. He missed Harry’s voice. It would be even deeper and sexier on the phone. He pressed a hand to his crotch and slid the still-vibrating phone towards himself. It was Liam. 

“Hey,” Louis said, picking the phone up. 

“Hey, Lou,” Liam said. “Are you… What are you doing?” 

“Fuck all,” Louis said, glancing at the clock on his kitchen wall. Harry didn’t finish work for another four hours, shit. “Why?” 

“Do you… I thought maybe you wanted to get some lunch.” 

Louis frowned. “I… With you?” 

“Yeah. I can come to you, if that’s easier?”   
“No, I can come to you. Where were you thinking?” 

*

“Lovely to see you again,” the woman said, as soon as Louis was inside the restaurant. 

He didn’t recognise her, but he smiled anyway. “You too.” 

“It’s been a while,” she said. 

It had, Louis thought as he followed her through the restaurant. He’d come here with Liam not long after he’d won The Voice and signed the management contract. It may have been the day he’d signed actually. His mum and stepdad had got the train back up to Doncaster and Louis had come here with Liam to celebrate their new business partnership. It seemed like a hell of a long time ago. 

Liam was sitting in a booth opposite the far end of the bar, a bottle of Brooklyn lager on the table in front of him. He raised his chin at Louis and Louis dropped into the seat opposite him. 

“So I’m assuming this isn’t a business lunch?” Louis said, gesturing at the beer. 

“Can I get you a drink?” the woman asked Louis. 

“I’ll have the same, thanks.” 

“You ok?” Louis asked Liam. He looked tired. And his hair was flat. Louis could always judge Liam’s mood by the height of his hair. 

“Yeah,” Liam said, dipping his head and rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean… Yeah. I am. I was just… Yesterday, in the studio…” He glanced away and picked up his beer. 

God, had it only been yesterday, Louis thought. It almost seemed like weeks ago. And Louis hadn’t even had time to stress about it because he’d been with Harry. Harry. He resisted the urge to check his watch. 

“I’ve been under a lot of pressure from the label,” Liam said, looking down at his hands on the table. 

“From Simon?” Louis asked. 

Liam looked up and nodded. “Mostly. Not just him, but… yeah.” 

“Right,” Louis said. 

“Are they not happy with what they’ve heard so far?” 

“They are, yeah. They’re just… They’re more concerned about PR.” 

“Right,” Louis said again. “They want me to go out more? Get papped?”   
They’d been through this before. In fact, the first thing they’d had him doing after he’d won the show was going to movie premieres and parties and getting his picture in the papers. For a while, he and Liam had had to sit down and book in dates for the paps to be called. Before The Voice, Louis had thought paparazzi followed celebrities around, he’d had no idea that often they were actually employed by the celebrities themselves. 

“Yeah,” Liam said. “Mostly. Are you up for that?” 

Louis shrugged. As long as it wasn’t too much, too often, then it was fine. It was part of the job. “Can we order some food,” he said. “I’m starved.” 

Liam slumped back against his seat, looking relieved. His hair even looked a bit perkier, Louis thought. 

They ordered - the waitress standing slightly too close to Louis, brushing her hip against his shoulder as she walked away - and then Liam sat forward again, his elbows on the table. 

“I owe you an apology,” he said, frowning. “I think… Like I said, I’ve been getting some pressure from the record company.” 

“Yeah,” Louis said, draining the last of his lager. 

“And I think it’s affected our relationship.” 

Louis nodded. There was no point in denying it, it absolutely had. When Liam had started managing him, they’d been more like mates. He’d sort of thought of Liam as an older brother. The older brother he’d never had. But lately… They still had a laugh. Sometimes. But not so much. 

“I’m sorry for what I said to you in the studio,” Liam said. “You know. About the album. I was frustrated and I… I didn’t even mean it. And it was a shitty thing to say.” 

“It was,” Louis said. He thought about telling Liam what had happened in the car park after, but he realised he didn’t trust him enough anymore and the thought of that made him feel sick. Shit. 

“I don’t want you to think about…” Liam tipped his head back, looking up at the ceiling, and then looked straight at Louis. “I don’t want you to think about changing management.” 

“I wasn’t,” Louis said. “I mean… I’m not.” 

“No?” Liam said. He smiled wryly. “I almost feel like you should have been.” 

Louis huffed out a laugh. “Is that your professional opinion?” 

Liam smiled. “Obviously if you wanted to leave I couldn’t stop you. Wouldn’t stop you. But I think… I think we can work on it and maybe get to a point where we’re both happy again. What do you think?” 

Louis looked down at the table, nodding. Liam had been with him from the start. He’d supported and encouraged and looked out for him. Louis had no idea how he could have got through any of it without Liam. Yeah, things hadn’t been great lately, but Louis hadn’t been trying either. He’d let resentments build up and hadn’t addressed some of the things he should have addressed. 

“I think we’ll be fine,” Louis said. 

Liam nodded, a small smile playing around his mouth. “Good. Because you know I love you, man.” 

Louis grinned and nodded at Liam’s beer. “How many of those have you had?” 

“Shut up,” Liam said. 

 

After they’d eaten, Louis stared at himself in the mirror in the bathroom as he washed his hands. The lighting was weird and it made him look pale and tired. Lunch had been good. The food was great and he and Liam had had a good laugh and it had almost been like old times. But the more they talked, the more Louis realised how many things he couldn’t talk to Liam about. He couldn’t mention Harry and obviously he wanted to talk about Harry all the time. He wanted to tell Liam about Ed, about his demo, about the gig at The Red Lion, but somehow he didn’t feel like he wanted to tell him about that either. They talked a bit about Louis’ album, but neither of them was particularly enthusiastic, so Liam ended up telling Louis about his dog. At great length. While Louis wondered if Harry liked dogs. (Of course he did.) 

When he opened the bathroom door, the waitress who’d shown him to his seat was standing outside and Louis knew instantly that she’d been waiting for him. 

“I wouldn’t usually be this forward,” she said, looking down and then up at him from under her long eyelashes. “But I’m a huge fan.” 

“Ah,” Louis said. “Thanks, but--” 

“Can I give you my number?” 

“Sure,” Louis said. There was no way on earth he would ever call, of course, but he’d learned early on that it was much easier to accept the numbers than to make excuses. 

The woman reached out and grabbed his wrist, pushed his sleeve back and wrote her number on his arm, just above the three flying bird tattoos. The scratch of the pen on his skin made the small hairs on the back of Louis’ arm stand up. The woman smiled at him and then wrote ‘Ella’ above the number. 

“You’ll call, won’t you?” she said, stepping closer so that her breasts brushed against his shirt. He sucked in a breath. 

“I’ll try,” he said. 

She smiled and stepped past him into the women’s bathroom. 

*

Louis felt unsettled on the drive home. He was glad Liam had asked to meet and realised things hadn’t been good between them, but it bothered Louis that he hadn’t been able to talk to him about what was going on in his own life. The most important things that were going on in his own life. And then there was Ella. Something about her had really bothered Louis, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He absentmindedly rubbed his arm against the front of his shirt, hoping the letters and numbers would have blurred by the time he got home. 

He glanced at the clock on his dashboard. Still at least an hour until Harry finished work. Time for a shower, at least. Or. Or he could just go and see Harry. He wanted to see Harry. He really wanted to see Harry. And Harry would want to see him too, wouldn’t he? Maybe Harry had been thinking about Louis just as much as Louis had been thinking about Harry. At the next set of traffic lights, Louis turned left instead of right and, just a few minutes later, pulled down the side road next to The Red Lion. 

His stomach was fluttering as he pushed open the door to the pub, but he couldn’t tell if it was nerves or excitement or both. He remembered how he’d felt the last time he’d been there, to see Ed’s gig. And he’d had no idea what would happen with Harry. How easy it would be. How good they’d be together. How they-- Louis stopped dead. 

Harry was behind the bar, leaning over, his forearms on the bar itself, a pen in his hand touching a notepad in front of him. But he was looking up at Perrie who was standing next to him, clearly telling him something, her pretty face bright and animated. Harry laughed, tipping his head back, the sound travelling across the room to meet Louis and Louis wanted to laugh along with him. He decided right there that he wanted to make Harry laugh like that every day. As often as possible. For as long as he could. 

Louis was still just standing there when Perrie looked up and spotted him. She nudged Harry and said something and Harry looked up at Louis and his face just… Louis felt like he couldn’t breathe. He felt like everything else in the room disappeared. Like something from a film. Either that or he was having a stroke. He forced himself to move to the bar. To Harry. To his enormous smile and his bright eyes and that fucking dimple and his butterfly just visible through his worn white t-shirt. 

“Heyyyyy,” Harry said, still beaming. “You’re here!” 

“Yeah,” Louis said, suddenly embarrassed. ‘I missed you’ he wanted to say. But he couldn’t say that. “I was just passing,” he said instead. “Thought I’d come and make sure you were hard at work.” 

“Oh yeah,” Harry said, tapping at the notebook with the pen. “Making a list for the cash and carry. It’s all glamour here.” 

Louis reached for the notebook, just for something to do with his hands because otherwise he might not be able to stop them stroking over the strip of skin just visible under the hem of Harry’s t-shirt. And also because he wanted to see Harry’s handwriting. ‘Napkins,’ he read. ‘Sugar sachets. Coffee stirrers. You’re right. This is exciting stuff.’ 

“Have you been in the studio?” Harry asked and Louis looked up. Harry’s eyebrows were pulled into a frown and Louis wanted to smooth them with his fingers. Or his mouth. 

He shook his head. “Met Liam for lunch up in town.” 

“Good?” Harry said. 

“Yeah,” Louis said, straightening up. “Mostly.” 

They stared at each other and Louis realised he hadn’t given a thought to anyone else in the pub. To how he might look, looking at Harry. To how it must surely be obvious to anyone with eyes that Louis was seconds away from leaping over the bar and pushing Harry down to the floor. 

“I’d better let you get back to work,” Louis said, touching the notepad again. Harry’s eyebrows flickered and Louis wanted to ask what was wrong, if he’d said something, if Harry was annoyed that he’d come to the pub. But he couldn’t. Not until they were alone. 

“Yeah,” Harry said, his voice low. “I’ll come straight round.” 

“Good,” Louis said, trying to read the expression on Harry’s face. And then he felt Harry’s finger on his arm, pressing gently, right where Ella had written her name. 

“Harry,” Louis said, so low it was barely audible. 

Harry’s eyes were dark and Louis felt heat pool in his belly. Shit. 

“I’ll be about half an hour,” Harry said. 

Louis nodded, smiled at Perrie, who was looking amused, and left. 

*

It had taken all of Louis’ self-control to not wank in the shower. Every time he pictured Harry’s face, his finger on the writing on his arm, the crack in his voice, Louis felt like birds were trapped in his rib cage. He hadn’t got it straight away because he hadn’t even considered calling Ella, wouldn’t even consider it, but as he’d thought about Harry’s odd behaviour on the short drive home, it had hit him. Harry was jealous. 

Louis would never have imagined he’d find it so hot. And it was probably unhealthy that he did. But fuck, did he ever. He’d even considered not washing Ella’s name and number off his arm, just to see that look on Harry’s face again, but he couldn’t do it. He   
didn’t want to be with Harry with someone else’s name on his skin. 

Louis jumped as the door buzzed and he glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. It was slightly too early for Harry so it must be the pizzas, he’d expected them to take longer. They usually did. Typical. 

It wasn’t pizza, it was Harry, rubbing his hand through his hair, green eyes staring into Louis’ through the screen of the entry system. 

“Hey,” Louis said, his voice managing to break even on that one syllable, and buzzed him in. 

Louis opened the front door and listened to Harry’s footsteps in the gravel of the driveway, resisting the urge to run outside and jump on him like a puppy. 

“Hey,” Louis said again, as Harry appeared. “You’re earl--” 

Harry was barely through the door before his mouth was on Louis’ and he was walking him back against the hallway wall. 

“Harry,” Louis gasped against his lips. “Let me… I need to... Fuck.”   
Harry made a noise close to a groan and carried on kissing him. He pressed his hips into Louis’ and Louis could feel he was already hard.   
“Shit,” Louis said, as Harry dragged back to mouth down Louis’ neck. “Harry! I need to shut the door. I’ve ordered pizza. If the gate didn’t shut--” 

Harry laughed then and took a couple of steps backwards - eyes still on Louis’ - and slammed the front door without even turning round. Louis felt his breath catch. Now that. Was hot. As hell. 

“Fuck,” Louis breathed as Harry crowded into him again. “What… why…” 

“Been thinking about you all day,” Harry said, tugging at the waistband of Louis’ jeans. “Couldn’t believe it when you turned up at the pub. I wanted to pull you over the bar and put you on the floor.” 

“Ah,” Louis said, running his mouth along Harry’s jaw, hands tangling in Harry’s hair. “I thought… ah! Same.” 

Harry was struggling to undo the button of Louis’ jeans, so Louis knocked his hand away.  
“I need… I can’t…” Louis gasped. He couldn’t get his brain to transmit properly to his mouth. Instead he pushed his jeans and pants down, his hard cock springing free. Harry wrapped his fingers around it instantly. 

“God, Louis, when I saw that fucking name on your arm…” Harry mouthed at the soft skin behind Louis’ ear as he slid his hand up Louis dick, the drag of skin making Louis whimper in the back of his throat. 

“I know,” Louis said. “I don’t… she was just at lunch… I…” He ran his hands down Harry’s back, nails dragging. 

“Fuck, I need to come,” Harry said into Louis’ neck, one thigh between Louis’ legs. Louis rocked against it. 

Harry managed to undo his own jeans more easily than he had Louis’ and then he had his dick out too and wrapped his huge hand around them both, dragging slowly up and down just once, but enough for Louis’ knees to start to buckle. Harry licked into his mouth again as he ran the palm of his hand over the tip of both their dicks, catching enough pre-come to smooth the glide of his hand. 

The feeling of Harry’s hard dick pressed against his own, of Harry’s fingers working over both of them, the sounds Harry was making against Louis’ mouth, his throat, his collarbones, Louis thought he might actually faint. He wanted to hook his legs around Harry’s hips and fuck up against him. He wanted Harry on top of him, all over him, inside him. He jerked his hips, fucking into Harry’s hand and closed his eyes, head knocking back against the wall as Harry sucked on his tongue, tugged his bottom lip into his mouth. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” Harry said, against his lips. “I want you so much.” 

Louis felt his orgasm build and he cried out as he came over Harry’s hand, against Harry’s pulsing cock. He was vaguely aware of Harry’s hips moving too. That Harry was mumbling into his mouth, against his throat. He heard, “That’s it. Come for me.” And “You look so good” and “Fuck, Louis” but all he could see was black and all he could feel was a pleasure so intense it was almost pain. Harry whimpered as Louis felt hot come hit his belly and realised it was Harry. Harry was coming too, his dick still pressed along the length of Louis’, forehead dropped down onto Louis’ shoulder. Louis could feel him shuddering and he smoothed his hands down Harry’s back, across his shoulders, down his arms. 

And then the door buzzed. 

“Pizza,” Louis murmured into Harry’s hair, wondering if he was actually physically capable of standing unaided. 

“Thank god,” Harry said, straightening up slowly. “I’m starving.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non-con scene towards the end of this chapter (not between H/L). Not explicit and not shown: it's in the story Louis tells Harry that he says he hasn't told anyone before, so if you're concerned about reading, you can skip from there.

PART TWO: RUNNING 

“I want to write you a song,” Louis said, his lips against one of the birds on Harry’s chest.  
The left one. His fingers grazed Harry’s hip. He could feel Harry’s dick against his thigh - soft, but firm. He wanted to crawl down and take it in his mouth. 

“I would like that,” Harry said, his fingers pressing gently down Louis’ spine. 

“Has anyone written a song for you before?” Louis moved down, licking over the butterfly. Harry ran his hands along Louis’ ribs and then shifted his body so Louis moved back up, higher. Louis didn’t even know how he did that, but it meant Louis’ face was level with Harry’s. Louis smiled at him. 

Harry smiled back. “Who would have written me a song?” 

Louis dropped a kiss on Harry’s mouth. He still tasted faintly of pizza. “Ed?” 

Harry laughed suddenly and Louis felt it in his own chest. “Ed doesn’t feel that way about me.” 

I do, Louis wanted to say. I feel that way about you. But then… that’s what the song would be for. 

“I didn’t mean a… romantic song,” Louis said, having to force the word out in case Harry got the wrong idea. Or rather, the right idea. “He might’ve written a friend song.” 

“Ed has not. As far as I know. Written a friend song for me.” He separated each sentence with a kiss. 

“Good,” Louis said, dropping his face against Harry’s neck. “I want to be the first.” 

“To write me a friend song,” Harry said. 

“Mmm,” Louis said, his lips on Harry’s jaw. “Or something like that.” 

“I look forward to hearing it,” Harry said. He lurched up from the pillows so that Louis dropped back and Harry was on top of him. 

Louis’ would never admit it, but he loved how much bigger than him Harry was. Loved that Harry could manhandle him and the way his body completely covered Louis’. He loved how they fitted together: his curves and Harry’s sharp edges. They shouldn’t work so well together, but they absolutely did. 

“Stay still, ok?” Harry said. 

Louis nodded, but Harry had already started moving down his body, kissing and licking and nibbling on the way. He kept going until he was between Louis’ legs and Louis waited for Harry to suck him, his hips jerking in anticipation. 

But then Harry’s hands slid under Louis’ thighs and Louis whimpered as he felt Harry’s tongue ghost across his hole. Fuck. He never let Nick do this and it had always pissed him off. Nick would try and Louis would push his head away and then do something to distract him, like begging him to fuck him or flipping him over and going down on him instead. Nick knew, of course. He once stopped and asked Louis how he thought they could be intimate “with limits”, wanting to know why Louis didn’t trust him enough. And Louis didn’t know why, but he couldn’t. He told himself - and Nick - that it was the idea of doing it at all he didn’t like, not the idea of doing it with Nick, but that was a lie because right now he was jerking his hips up, while he felt Harry’s fingers gripping into his thighs and all he wanted was for Harry to put his mouth there again. 

Harry’s tongue lathed across again - from Louis’ hole to the base of his balls - and Louis groaned. 

“Is this ok?” Harry said, lifting his head to look up at Louis. 

Louis raised his head from the pillow to look back at him, but had to drop down again instantly. Harry looked incredible - his hair falling over his face, his lips wet and full, his eyes dark. And he was looking at Louis like he would do anything to get him off, make it good for him. 

“Fuck. Yes,” Louis managed to groan. 

At that, Harry’s hands moved higher, under Louis’ arse and he lifted Louis’ hips to meet his tongue, swiping it over Louis’ hole again and again until Louis could hear himself making embarrassing needy little sounds. He threw one arm over his face, covering his eyes, while he tangled his other hand into Harry’s hair and pushed. Harry groaned and Louis had to grab the base of his dick so he didn’t come straight away. Harry started licking Louis’ rim, his tongue pointed and probing and Louis felt like he was falling. His feet scrabbled against the mattress as he pushed his hand back into Harry’s hair and felt Harry’s tongue slide inside him. He tried to focus on the feeling of Harry’s shoulders against the softness of his thighs, of Harry’s hair in his hands, of the sounds Harry was making as he licked and probed and tasted Louis. 

And then he was coming and everything went black. 

“Fuck,” Louis whispered, he didn’t know how long later. He felt dizzy. Untethered. As if he could float right off the bed. But he couldn’t because Harry’s mouth was on his hip and then he was licking at the come on Louis’ stomach and nipping at his collarbone and then Louis could feel that he was directly over him, looking down. 

“Louis,” Harry said. And he sounded as affected as Louis felt. 

Louis opened his eyes. And Harry was right there. And he looked so… Louis had never seen anything like it. Like him. 

“Are you okay?” Harry said. 

“I…” Louis croaked. “I think I’m dead. I think you killed me.” 

The look of slight concern on Harry’s face transformed into one of his ridiculous goofy smiles and he said, “So this is Heaven?” 

Louis huffed out a laugh. “Oh yeah. Definitely Heaven.” 

Harry glanced down at Louis’ mouth and Louis’ breath hitched. He wasn’t sure about kissing. After what Harry had just been doing. That was another thing Nick hadn’t liked about Louis - he always made Nick get out of bed and clean his teeth when he’d been going down on him. Well fuck Nick. 

Louis lurched up, pressing his mouth to Harry’s and Harry immediately slid his tongue inside, licking over Louis’ bottom lip. And Louis could taste himself, could taste come, nothing else except maybe soap. And Harry. It was fine. It was good. He groaned and pulled Harry hard against him, one hand on the small of his back and the other in Harry’s hair and Harry hummed against his mouth, grinding his hips against Louis’ thighs, which was when Louis realised that Harry hadn’t come, Harry was still hard. 

“Harry,” Louis said against the other man’s mouth. “Let me--” 

“Wanna come like this,” Harry said, ducking his head to lick the hollow of Louis’ throat.  
“M’close.” 

“Fuck,” Louis said. “Okay.” 

Harry’s hips stuttered against Louis as Harry lifted himself up on his elbows and Louis felt Harry’s hard cock slide along his belly, into Louis’ come. 

“God, Harry,” Louis said, kissing Harry’s throat, neck, collarbones, shoulder, everywhere he could reach. “You’re so fucking gorgeous. I can’t believe I get to--” 

Harry’s hips jerked hard and he came with a shout, pressing his forehead against Louis’, as the aftershocks shuddered through him. 

 

“Thank you,” Louis said, feeling like a total dickhead. “For doing… that.” 

“What?” Harry said, grinning. 

Louis closed his eyes. He’d always been shit at talking about this. It was another thing Nick had been pissed off about. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he wondered why Nick had stayed with him for so long. 

“The… licking… thing,” Louis said. 

Harry laughed out loud at that and Louis opened his eyes because Harry looked so beautiful when he laughed. 

“Shut up,” Louis said. 

Harry kissed him quickly and then pulled back, to look directly into Louis’ eyes. “Eating you out, you mean?” 

Louis shuddered, feeling heat pool in the base of his stomach. 

“You liked me eating you out,” Harry said, knowing full well how much it was affecting Louis. 

“Yeah,” Louis said. “I liked…” He tried to say it. He wanted to. “That.” 

Harry made a sound that was almost a growl and bent to nip at Louis’ collarbones. “I liked that too. A lot.” 

“I’ve never,” Louis said, sliding one hand down through Harry’s hair. “Done that.” 

“No?” Harry said, mouth against his skin. 

“No. I mean, no one’s ever--” 

Harry lurched back up to look at Louis’ face, his eyebrows pulled together with concern.  
“You’ve never… no one’s…” He closed his eyes then opened them again. “You’ve never been rimmed? Before.” 

“No,” Louis said. 

“Shit. Shit, Louis. If I’d known that, I’d have been more… Was it ok? You wanted it?” 

Louis pulled Harry’s head down and pressed his lips to Harry’s. “It was fucking incredible. I wanted it. I never wanted it before - with anyone else - but I wanted it. With you. Yeah.”  


Harry opened his mouth as if he was going to say something else, but instead he dropped down, his full weight on Louis, and kissed him, his tongue sliding inside and tangling with Louis’. Louis held onto his shoulders and kissed him right back, gasping into his mouth, hearing Harry groan as Louis’ ran his tongue along the underside of his top lip. 

“I can’t believe,” Harry said, half into Louis’ mouth. “I can’t believe I got to do something that no one else…” 

And then he was kissing Louis again, overwhelmed. 

“I’m glad,” Louis said before he changed his mind. “I’m glad it was you.” 

Harry pulled away then, gently, moving his hips so he was lying at Louis’ side, their legs still tangled together. 

“I can’t believe no one’s ever done it,” he said. “How could anyone resist your incredible arse?” 

Louis laughed out loud and then closed his eyes, tipping his head back on the pillow. 

“I haven’t…” Louis said, opening his eyes and glancing at Harry who was looking at him, eyes wide and focussed. “I haven’t done this much.” 

“No?” Harry said. He wrapped his long fingers around Louis’ wrist and Louis immediately felt better, stronger. 

“No. I mean, I was 17 when I auditioned for The Voice and they made it pretty clear that it wasn’t really an option to be… openly, you know.” 

“Gay?” Harry said, leaning down and gently pressing his lips to Louis’ shoulder. 

“Yeah,” Louis said. “Gay.” 

“You can say it though, right?” Harry said, into Louis’ skin. 

Louis laughed. “Yeah, I can say it. Gay. Openly gay. I couldn’t for a while though. And, I mean, I was only just realising it myself then, so them saying that was…” 

Harry leaned up on his elbow again and looked down at Louis, his eyes sweeping over his face as if he was checking for how hurt Louis was. He pressed a quick kiss to the corner of Louis’ mouth and asked, “Had you had a boyfriend by then? Been with anyone?” 

Louis shook his head. “I had a friend. At school. Well, he had been at our school and then he moved away - not far, they moved to get him into the private school - but we kept in touch and we used to go and stay sometimes, me and Stan.” Louis took a shaky breath. “I haven’t told anyone this before.” 

“We don’t have to,” Harry said, concern written all over his face. 

“No,” Louis said. “I want to.” 

He turned onto his side, facing Harry, and slid one hand down Harry’s side, resting it on his hip. “So this one time Stan couldn’t come. He was puking, I think. But I went anyway. And it was all good, all the same as usual. We played Fifa. He’d nicked a couple of cans from his dad and we sneaked them up to his room and watched a film. Shaun of the Dead. We always slept on mattresses on the floor and it was a bit weird when it came to going to sleep cos usually the three of us would be pissing about and punching each other in the balls and it was different just the two of us. Neither of us said anything, obviously, but it was different. And I wasn’t sure if I wanted Stan to be there or if I was glad that he wasn’t.” 

“Did you fancy him?” Harry asked, his voice low, eyes still trained on Louis. “Your friend.” 

Louis frowned. “I don’t think so. I think I thought maybe it would be ok if something happened? But no, I wasn’t wanking over him or anything. We’d just been three lads til then. So we went to sleep and then I woke up and it was that kind of dark when you can’t actually tell if your eyes are open or not and at first I thought I was dreaming, but he’d moved over from his bed to mine and he was rubbing off against my arse.” 

“Shit, Lou,” Harry breathed, his eyes wide. 

“Yeah.” Louis shuffled in the bed, one foot bumping into Harry’s. Harry hooked his foot over Louis’ ankle. “Yeah. I didn’t know what to do. I just lay there. I tried to pretend to still be asleep, but I doubt he believed it. He came, mostly on himself, but I felt a little bit on me and then he lay there for a second. And then he said - he whispered - my name.” Louis screwed his eyes shut, his stomach clenching at the memory, his fingers digging into the flesh just above Harry’s hip. “Fuck. He said my name and I just… I ignored him. I pretended I hadn’t heard it. And then he rolled away.” 

Harry slid an arm around Louis’ waist and pulled him towards him. “You were young,” he said. 

Louis pressed his face into Harry’s shoulder. “Yeah. I know. That’s not all of it.” He took a breath. “I was hard. I was so hard. And I was freaking the fuck out. I wanted to get up and go there and then. I thought about going and telling his parents. I can remember thinking I’d burst into their room and say ‘Your son’s a pervert!’ Fuck. I thought that. I pictured their faces, how shocked and upset they’d be. Fucking precious private school boy. And him crying. And my mum coming to get me and telling them never to contact us again. I lay there thinking all of that, feeling like I wanted to climb out of my skin.” 

He felt Harry’s lips in his hair, his hands gentle on his waist, his foot sliding against Louis’ calf. 

“And then at some point I obviously fell asleep. And when I woke up, I’d come in my pants. In his bed. I didn’t say anything - about that, about him - I got up and had breakfast as normal and then I went home and just… just never called him again. I told Stan we’d had a fight and I didn’t want to talk about it. But I think Stan guessed. He never said, but… yeah.” 

“Louis,” Harry said, leaning back to look at him. “You were young. You were both young.” 

“Yeah,” Louis said. “I know. It still makes me feel like shit though.” 

Harry just nodded and pressed his lips to Louis’ forehead and Louis felt something unfurling in his chest. It felt soft. And light. And warm. And it scared the shit out of him.


	9. Chapter 9

Harry had just started crawling down Louis’ body - the duvet tented over his head, his fingers pressing into the spaces between Louis’ ribs, Louis’ hips jerking up in anticipation - when Louis’ phone rang. 

“Shit,” Louis said, his arm reaching out towards the bedside table reflexively. 

“Leave it,” Harry said, his voice muffled by the bedding and the fact that his face was pressed into Louis’ belly. 

“It’s… ah!” 

Harry ran his tongue over Louis’ skin. Louis grabbed at the duvet with his free hand as he held his phone up in front of his face. 

“Ah! It’s Niall. I’ll just…” 

Louis’ felt Harry’s teeth graze his hipbone as he accepted the call and said, “This is a really bad time, Nialler,” into the phone. 

“Ah right,” Niall said. “Sorry, mate. Can you… can you call me back when you, er, get a minute.” 

He didn’t sound like himself at all. None of his usual puppyish enthusiasm. He sounded miserable as hell. Louis reached down under the covers and gently pushed Harry’s head away from where he was working on sucking a bruise into the soft flesh above Louis’ hip. 

“No, it’s ok,” Louis said into the phone. “Is something wrong?” 

“I… yeah.” 

Harry crawled out from under the duvet and looked at Louis, his eyebrows drawn together with concern. 

“What’s happened?” Louis said. 

Harry dropped down onto the bed next to him and rested his forehead on the top of Louis’ shoulder. Louis reached out and ran his fingers over Harry’s arm. 

“Me and Mel,” Niall said. “We--” And then he started to cry. 

*

“I’ll be back in a couple of days,” Louis said, throwing a second pair of Vans into a huge blue holdall. “He’s just… He and Mel have been together for years. Fuck, I can’t believe they’ve split.” 

“It’s fine,” Harry said from his spot at the foot of the bed where he’d been watching Louis freak out for the past fifteen minutes. “Do you, um, do you want me to come with you?” 

Louis stomach swooped at the thought. He dropped the holdall on the floor and crossed the room to step into the v between Harry’s legs. 

“I would fucking love that, honestly.” 

Harry’s arms looped loosely around his waist. 

“But I don’t think it’s a good idea. I need to sort Niall out, you know? And if you’re there I’ll be… distracted.” 

“I distract you?” Harry said, running his hands down Louis’ back and hooking a finger into the waistband of his boxer briefs. 

Louis snorted. “Just a little.” He could feel his dick filling up just at the thought of Harry pushing a hand into his pants. 

“I can’t,” Louis said. “I’ve got a flight.” 

“I could come with you. Give you a goodbye blowie at the airport.” Harry looked up at him and grinned. 

Louis’ dick twitched. “Tempting.” 

Harry ran his tongue slowly over his lips and Louis groaned, pushing him back on the bed. 

 

Louis had just paid for a magazine and a bottle of water at the WH Smiths in the airport when his phone rang. His stomach fluttered at the thought that it might be Harry - that was a bit embarrassing - and then sank when he saw Liam’s name on the screen. That wasn’t great. 

“Li,” he said into the phone, shoving the water into the pocket of his holdall. 

“Where are you?” Liam said. 

Louis glanced around, as if Liam was there, watching. His first instinct was to lie. That wasn’t great either. 

“M’at the airport,” he said, heading over to the seating area near the gate. 

“Alone? Where are you going?” 

“Yeah, I’m alone. Just going to Dublin for a couple of days. Niall’s… I’m going to see Niall.” 

“And you’re alone?” 

“Yeah. I know you think I should have security, but--” 

“No, it’s not that. When are you going to be back? We need to talk.” 

Louis shrugged, even though Liam couldn’t see him. “Monday? I dunno. What’s up?” 

“Monday then? Can you come into the office?” 

“Let’s say Tuesday,” Louis said. 

“Right,” Liam said. “Good.” 

Louis looked up at the information screen, high on the wall. Twenty minutes to boarding. 

“Lou,” Liam said, his voice strained. “You and Niall aren’t… He’s a friend, right?” 

“Jesus Christ,” Louis said, heading towards the sign for his gate. “Yeah, he’s just a friend.” 

“Ok, good. Just checking.” 

“Fuck,” Louis snorted a laugh out of his nose. “Wait til I tell Niall.” 

“I’ve got some album artwork here to show you,” Liam said, changing the subject. “When you get back.” 

Even over the phone Louis could tell he was embarrassed. Him and Niall. Bloody hell. 

“Great,” Louis said. “Actually can you email me the music files? For the new album?” 

“You haven’t got them already?” 

“No. And I thought I could listen on the flight. No distractions, you know?” 

“No problem,” Liam said. “I’ll send them now.” 

*

Louis tucked his water and magazine into the pocket of the seat in front and then pushed his bag into the last space left in the overhead locker. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d flown alone. Liam had convinced him it wasn’t safe without security and he’d believed him. Or, if not believed him, then accepted it. But no one had bothered him at all so far. He’d seen a couple of people looking and there’d been a hairy moment in security when he’d had to take off his snapback and there’d been a party of Spanish teenagers in the next line along, but he’d kept his head down and made it through without a mob scene. No doubt sneaky photos of him in Smiths would be on Twitter by now, but he was used to that. He half-wished he’d bought Attitude magazine, give them something to talk about. He laughed out loud, picturing Liam’s response to that idea and then he plugged his headphones into his phone, tipped his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. 

The first song was fine. It wasn’t great and he didn’t think it was strong enough to be the opening track on the album, but it was ok. Solid lyrics, good tune, he sounded like he was enjoying singing it. It was fine. 

The second track was okay too - bit more upbeat and with a guitar solo he remembered singing with Julian, both of them playing air guitar and laughing. He smiled remembering it. 

The third track wasn’t great. His vocal was dull. He didn’t think the bridge worked. It was too long, he got bored about two thirds of the way through. 

The fourth song - the one they’d been working on the day he’d had the panic attack - was shit. It was so shit that his stomach curled with embarrassment as he listened to it. It sounded like a demo - it’s possible it wasn’t actually finished, that Julian still had some work to do on it - but no amount of work could fix it, Louis didn’t think. 

The fifth song wasn’t much better. Louis yanked his headphones out of his ears and let them drop down around his neck. He couldn’t put this album out, he just couldn’t. He pictured the reviews, imagined the tweets he’d get from disappointed fans and he felt sick. He scrolled through the music on his iPhone and found Ed’s tracks - he’d uploaded them from the CD a couple of days ago. He tapped the first one and within seconds of it starting he knew he couldn’t release the album. Ed’s stuff was so much better, it was laughable.   
Louis didn’t know where he stood, contractually, but he had to do something. He spent the rest of the flight alternating between Ed’s songs and his own songs. Ed’s songs made something vibrate inside his chest. They made him think of Harry, yes, but they made him think of sex, of driving too fast, of going out and getting drunk and having fun and then coming home and getting fucked and waking up with someone whose face you were happy to see in the morning. There was still something about them he couldn’t quite reach - something that he could feel but couldn’t identify - but even without that, he knew Ed’s songs were special. 

By contrast, his own songs sounded about as far from special as Louis could imagine. They sounded like going through the motions. They sounded like what they were - songs written by someone who didn’t have much of a life anymore, didn’t even really know who he was or what he wanted or how to express himself. 

By the time the plane landed in Dublin, Louis was feeling thoroughly sorry for himself. Even a text from Harry (‘Hope you didn’t join the mile high club without me’) couldn’t make him feel any better. What would Harry think about the songs? What would he think of Louis when he heard them? He’d watched him on The Voice. He’d voted for him, for fuck’s sake. He’d known that music had been Louis passion. So he’d know how badly Louis had let that get away. Louis hadn’t even realised how badly he’d let it get away until know. He felt embarrassed. And ashamed. And he had no idea what he was going to do about it. 

 

Louis had planned to get a taxi to Niall’s apartment, but when he walked out into Arrivals, he saw Niall instantly. He looked like himself with the volume turned down. His hair was greasy and flat to his forehead and under his eyes was smudged black. But the biggest difference wasn’t his looks, it was his demeanor - he didn’t run and leap on Louis, yelling “Oi oi, Tommo!” He just stood there, looking small and sad. It made Louis want to run to him, if he was totally honest. But instead he just crossed the hallway, dropped his holdall to the ground, and pulled his best mate of nine years into a tight hug. 

“You didn’t have to come,” Niall said into Louis’ neck. 

Louis squeezed him and then pushed him away, holding him at arm’s length. “Of course I did. You ok?” 

Niall’s chin actually quivered and Louis wished he’d made time to come over more, wished he’d talked to him more, wished he’d known what had been going on with Mel. 

“I’m fucked, mate,” Niall said. 

“Drink?” Louis said. 

“Drink,” Niall nodded. 

Niall had parked directly outside Arrivals, so within a couple of minutes they were on the road, heading away from the airport. 

“Distract me,” Niall said, as he merged onto the motorway. “I can’t think about Mel while I’m driving or I’ll fuck up. Tell me something good. Tell me about Harry.” 

Louis’ belly flickered and he reached for his phone, to check if Harry had texted. Nothing. 

“He’s great,” Louis said. 

“You can do better than that, mate,” Niall said. “Good fuck?” 

“Jesus,” Louis said. And then, “Yeah. The best.” 

“The best?!” Niall said, turning to look at Louis quickly, before looking back at the road.   
“Better than Nick?” 

“Yeah, I know,” Louis said. “Better than Nick, yeah. And I know I don’t have that much to compare him with, but… I can’t… Shit.” 

“What?” Niall said. 

“I can’t imagine that it could possibly be better. With anyone else.” 

“Fuck,” Niall said. 

“Yeah,” Louis said, pulling at a loose thread on the knee of his jeans. He hadn’t even let himself think that. Fuck Niall and the way he always managed to get Louis to talk about feelings he hadn’t even know he had. 

“So who bottoms?” Niall said. 

Louis snorted. “Fuck off. And we haven’t done that yet.” 

“What the fuck? He’s the best you’ve ever had and you haven’t even fucked? What’s he the best at? Holding hands? Brushing your hair?” 

“We’ve done plenty,” Louis said. “And it’s all been…” 

He pictured Harry on his bed this morning, starfished naked, his tattoos dark against his pale skin, his dick hard and curving up towards his belly as Louis sucked a bruise into his inner thigh. Harry’s hands tugging at Louis’ hair as he moaned and squirmed on the bed. His dick was filling up at the memory. 

“Hand jobs?” Niall said. “Blow jobs? Frottage?” He said the last with a French accent.

Louis laughed. “All of the above.” 

“Shit, son,” Niall said. “And you like him? It’s not just all dicks, all the time?” 

“I… yeah,” Louis said. “He’s…” 

He pictured Harry kissing him at the front door before leaving for his own house. Telling him he hoped Niall would be okay. Saying “I’ll miss you” into Louis’ neck and then hugging him goodbye, the entire length of his body pressed to Louis’. 

“He’s…” 

“Christ, look at you,” Niall said and Louis dipped his head with embarrassment. “You look like the fuckin’ heart eyes emoji.” 

Louis shook his head. 

“I’m happy for you, man,” Niall said. 

Louis looked over at the sound of a sniff and caught Niall swiping his face with the back of his hand. 

“Sorry,” Niall said. 

“You don’t need to…” Louis said. “It’s fine. I mean, it sucks.” 

“I don’t want to spend the weekend snotting on you though, you know? I mean… I do want to talk a bit. But I mostly want to get absolutely wankered.” 

“Oh shit,” Louis said, laughing. 

“It’s been too long since we’ve been out on the piss together,” Niall said, pulling off the motorway and onto a narrow street, lined with large white houses. 

“I don’t know if I can--” 

“Fuck off,” Niall said. “Don’t give me that popstar bullshit. We’re going out and you’re going to get pissed and have fun and probably spend half an hour telling me how beautiful Harry is and how much you miss him and we’ll both cry. It’s gonna be epic.” 

Louis laughed. “Can we get a kebab?” 

“Are you shitting me? Of course we’ll get a kebab.” 

Niall pulled up at the gates of what looked to Louis like a young offenders institute. He hadn’t been to Niall’s new place before - last time he’d been over to Dublin to see Niall, they’d stayed in a hotel in the city. Once through the gates, the apartment building went from young offenders institute to Spanish hacienda - huge windows in a circular tower overlooking the blue of the bay. 

“Shit, lad,” Louis said, as Niall parked and they got out of the car. 

“Good, innit?” Niall said. “S’like being on holiday all the time. It’s why Mel--” His lips flattened into a line and Louis dropped his arm around his shoulders, hugging him against him. 

“Come on,” Louis said. “Get me a drink and give me the tour.” 

*

Louis was happy in London, he was. And happier since he’d met Harry, of course. But he had to admit to pangs of envy at Niall’s apartment. Or not the apartment so much as the views - every room had huge windows overlooking the water. Niall slid them open in every room he showed Louis and the sound of the waves crashing on the rocks below reminded Louis of holidays in Malta as a child. The sound was so evocative that he almost felt like he could feel the sunburn on his shoulders, hear his sisters shrieking on the beach, smell the garlic from the pizzeria under the apartment they always stayed in. 

He should take them all on holiday, his family. Why hadn’t he done that? 

“You okay?” Niall asked him, coming back from the kitchen with two bottles of Peroni. 

“Just thinking,” Louis said. 

“Fuck that shit,” Niall said, sliding open a door next to the enormous pink Smeg fridge and stepping out onto a small terrace. 

“Bloody hell,” Louis said, following him outside. 

“You know what that is?” Niall said, gesturing. “That’s a motherfucking uninterrupted sea view.” 

Louis laughed, sitting down and putting his lager on the table in front of him. 

“Cost about a hundred grand,” Niall said. “But you know what? Worth it.” 

“So you’re going to stay here then?” Louis asked. “In this apartment?” 

Niall nodded. “Yeah. I love it. And it’s easy to get into the city for work and everything.” He swigged his lager. “Mel’s staying with her sister.” 

Louis nodded. “So…” 

“There’s not that much to tell. I dunno. I thought things were okay. I mean… I thought they were good. There was nothing… I didn’t do anything. I don’t think I did anyway. We didn’t fight. She says she just…” He bit at his lips. “She just doesn’t feel the same way. Anymore.” 

“Fuck,” Louis said. “I’m so sorry.” 

Niall shook his head. “I just… I wish I’d seen it coming, you know? I thought everything was great and she wasn’t happy and I didn’t even realise. She stopped loving me and I didn’t notice. How could I fuckin’ not notice, you know?” 

“I think,” Louis said. “This stuff is hard. Harder than I realised.” 

“Did you love Nick?” Niall asked him. 

“I thought I did,” Louis said. “But I didn’t. Actually that’s not true. This is what I mean. I told myself I did. I told Nick I did. But I knew I didn’t, not really. I remember the first time he said it. I said it back and a voice in my head said ‘No you don’t’. What the fuck is that about?” 

Niall laughed. “I dunno, man. It’s fucked up. And what about Harry?” 

“We’ve only known each other for, like, a week.” 

“I knew about Mel straight away. I knew the first night. M’just sayin.” 

“I…” Louis dropped his head back, looking straight up at the bright blue sky. “I’ve never felt like this before. So. I don’t know if I love him. But it’s… something. It’s good.” 

“And you need to fuck him,” Niall said. “Obviously. Or let him fuck you. I don’t know what you’re into.”

“And I think we can keep it that way,” Louis said, smiling. He took his phone out of his pocket - he’d texted Harry to tell him he’d arrived safely, but hadn’t checked to see if he’d replied. And he had. 

‘Hey. Hope Niall’s ok. Give me a call later?’ 

“You are so smitten,” Niall said, grinning at Louis. 

Louis shook his head. “Honestly, lad, I can’t even deny it. It’s been like this since the first time I saw him.” 

They finished their lagers while Louis told Niall exactly how he and Harry had first met and Niall took the piss out of pretty much every aspect of the story. 

“Do you want to go out tonight,” Niall said, as he got up to get them more beers. “Or should we just stay here and get a takeaway?” 

“Takeaway sounds good,” Louis said. 

He was already feeling relaxed and sleepy from the flight and the beer and the sea air and the thought of going out to a bar and talking to people who weren’t Niall was a bit much. 

“Bathroom?” he said, following Niall into the kitchen. 

 

The bathroom also had a huge window facing the sea, but it was frosted. Louis peed, washed his hands, stared at himself in the mirror and then took out his phone. He wanted to tell Harry he missed him, but was that too much? 

He scrolled to Harry’s last message and typed in ‘What r u doing?’ 

A message pinged back almost immediately: ‘At work. U ok?’ 

‘What time u finishing?’ Louis replied. 

‘On til closing 2nite. Be home by 12 latest. What u doing?’ 

‘Staying in with Niall. Drinking on his balcony.’ 

‘Sounds good.’ 

‘It is.’ Louis wrote. He stared at the phone. He wanted to be honest. But he didn’t want to scare Harry off. But he didn’t think Harry would be scared off by honesty. And if he was, wasn’t it better to know that sooner rather than later. He sent the text. And then he wrote ‘Wish u were here’ and sent that too. 

He sat down heavily on the loo - seat down - and actually put his head between his knees. He was ridiculous. It wasn’t like he’d told Harry-- His phone buzzed in his hand. 

‘Me too’ Harry had written. Louis actually groaned with relief. And then another text came through. ‘Miss u.’ 

Louis felt his dick twitch in his sweatpants. No, he couldn’t wank over a text in Niall’s bathroom. Even for him that was too much. 

‘I’ll ring later’ he texted and then turned his phone off, dropping it back into his pocket. 

*

“And he threw it over his shoulder, right?” Niall was saying, barely managing to get the words out through his laughter. He gestured throwing something over his shoulder and then looked confused, turning to look behind him. 

Louis laughed so hard his stomach hurt. He reached over and swiped a chunk of naan through the last of the tikka sauce. 

“Right?” Niall said, through a mouthful of onion bhaji. “So he was like, ‘fuck it, she’s never going to be interested’. And then a couple of days later, he gets a call and it was this girl. His number had - when he’d thrown it, on the paper, right? - his number had landed in her fucking bag.” 

“Fuck off!” Louis said, slamming his lager down on the table. 

“I know.” Niall suddenly looked very serious. 

Louis looked out over the water, dark now, shimmering slightly in the moonlight. “Fuck.” 

“And now they’re getting fucking married,” Niall said. 

Louis looked over at him and saw his face crumple. 

“I thought,” Niall said, his voice small. “I thought me and Mel--” 

“I know,” Louis said. “I know you did. I’m sorry.” 

“I should’ve asked her. Why didn’t I fucking ask her?” 

He stared at Louis as if Louis knew the answer. He had no idea. Except that they were still young and it was terrifying. All of it. Everything. They sat in silence for a few minutes. Louis listened to the water lapping at the rocks below and realised he really needed to pee. 

“Niall,” he said instead. “My album is fucking shit.” 

“Nah, mate,” Niall said. It was slightly muffled because he’d put his head down onto his folded arms on the table. 

“It is. It’s shit. I’m embarrassed.” 

“You can fix it,” Niall said, sitting up and staring intently at Louis. “You can.” 

“I can’t. I don’t even want to. I want to throw it out and start again.” 

“Do that then.” 

Louis stared at him. He could do that. Couldn’t he? He could just tell them he wasn’t happy with it and they weren’t putting it out and he wanted to record something else. He could do that. Of course he could. It was his album. 

“It’s my album,” he said. 

“Of course it is,” Niall said, sitting up straight and slamming the flat of his hand on the table. “Of course it fucking is.” 

Louis felt something building inside him. He wasn’t sure if he was going to cry or laugh. Or lean across the table and hug Niall. Niall was his best friend. His best fucking friend. It was that feeling again. Bigger than him, but inside him and trying to get out. Like… like that music. What was it? 

“You’re my best,” Louis said, the words felt too big in his mouth. “Niall! You’re my best mate.” 

“Of course I fuckin’ am, Lou!” Niall said, slapping the table again. “Of course I fuckin’ am.” 

Louis started to laugh and then he was walking back into the apartment, even though he didn’t remember getting up or leaving the terrace. He bumped his hip on the edge of a cupboard and muttered ‘Motherfuck’ to himself before staggering into his room and picking up his bag. 

“What are you doing, ya dickhead?” Niall yelled from the terrace. 

Louis was looking for a CD. But then he remembered the music was on his phone. He bounced back out of the room, off the door jamb and through the kitchen. Something crashed somewhere and he heard Niall’s cackling laughter. 

“I’m going to be in the shit with the neighbours,” Niall said, as Louis dropped heavily into his chair. “Fuck ‘em.” 

Louis’ phone was on the table, where it had been the whole time. 

“Got a text,” Niall said. “I didn’t read it in case it was a dick pic.” 

Louis snorted. “We don’t… he hasn’t…” But he was already getting hard at the thought of Harry sending him a dick pic. Harry had a really nice dick. 

“Look at your face!” Niall hooted. “Dirty bastard.” 

Louis poked at his phone. The text from Harry said, “Don’t worry if you can’t call. Talk tomorrow?” 

“I was gonna call,” Louis muttered at the phone. 

“Go on then,” Niall said. 

“S’too late now,” Louis said and something hurt in his chest. He wanted to talk to Harry. Harry’s voice was so sexy. He wanted to hear it right in his ear. He tapped on Harry’s name and then into the box to reply to the text. ‘Miss you’ he typed. He reached for his bottle and knocked it with the back of his hand. Niall and Louis both stared at it as it wobbled in a circle, but landed back on its base. 

“Fucking A!” Niall yelled and Louis laughed. 

‘wnt you’ he typed into the phone, blinking to clear his vision. 

‘Are you asking him for a dick pic?” Niall said. “I can leave you alone. But you probably shouldn’t wank out here.” 

Louis snorted. He wasn’t asking Harry for a dick pic. But, fuck, he would love to see Harry’s dick right now. Why hadn’t he let Harry come with him. He could finish his lager, go inside and suck Harry off. He reached down and pushed his hard dick to one side in his jeans. 

“Ah no,” Niall said. “If you’re getting it out, I’m going to get more drink.” 

“I’m not getting it out, knobhead,” Louis said, holding his phone up closer to his face.

‘wnt you allatime’ he typed. ‘so fckin hot’ 

Louis heard another crash from inside, followed by Niall’s laughter and then “Shit, son.” 

‘lv yr cck’ Louis typed. Why wouldn’t his fingers work properly? ‘lov you’ He frowned at the screen, poking it with his finger. 

“Stop wanking, you wanker!” Niall yelled, coming back outside with a bottle of tequila, two shot glasses and a family bag of Doritos. 

“YES!” Louis said. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” 

He didn’t even notice when Niall knocked his phone off the table and onto the floor.


	10. Chapter 10

“Oh shit,” Louis groaned, as the bright light shining between the blinds hit him right in the face. He tried to open his eyes, but it was physically impossible - he felt like the sun was burning into his brain even with them closed. 

He heard the door open and he waited for Niall to throw himself down on the bed or pour a glass of water over his face or maybe put a cup of tea on the bedside table, but nothing. Louis rolled over and pressed his forehead into the pillow. Why had he got so drunk? 

Fucking Niall, that was why. 

“You awake, Lou?” He heard Niall say. Had he been in the room the whole time? What was he doing? 

“What are you doing?” Louis croaked. His voice sounded wrecked. He tried to roll over onto his back, but his brain felt like it was sliding inside his head. He reached up and clamped his hands onto his temples. 

Niall laughed. “You’re fucked.” 

“I’m dead,” Louis said. “And this is hell.” 

“I’ll make you a tea,” Niall said. As he left the room, the door swung back and hit the wall and Louis flinched. He still hadn’t opened his eyes. 

 

“I came in earlier, but you were flat out,” Niall said. 

He was sitting at the end of Louis’ bed, can of Red Bull in his hand. Louis had managed to haul himself up against the pillows and was nursing a massive mug of tea with both hands. 

“Snoring like a bastard.” 

“I don’t snore,” Louis said, the steam from the tea making his top lip damp. Or maybe that was sweat. He felt like shit. 

“You fuckin’ do,” Niall said. “Could hear you from my room.” 

Louis slurped some tea even though it was still too hot. But his throat was killing him. 

“Did I talk to Harry last night?” Louis asked. Something was tugging at his memory. 

Niall drained the can and threw it into a basket it the corner of the room. “Score!” 

“Fuck me!” Louis said, flinching. “How are you not hungover?” 

“Built up me tolerance, bud. I don’t think you spoke to Harry. But you were in the lav for a while at one point. Thought you were wanking.” 

“Jesus,” Louis said, smiling even though it made his face hurt. “I must’ve dreamt it then.” 

“Aw, you dream about him,” Niall said, grinning. “Must be love.” 

“Fuck off,” Louis said, drinking more tea. It was almost at the exact right temperature. 

“So I was thinking…” Niall started, throwing himself down on the bed next to Louis. Louis watched the tea slosh precariously to the rim of the mug. “What you were saying about your album last night. And Liam.” 

“Shit,” Louis said. 

“Yeah. Well I’ve been working with James Corden, you know? He’s working in management now.” 

“Yeah.” Louis had read something about that. He’d previously been a producer, but had set up his own music management company and was doing incredibly well. He’d signed this 17-year-old girl he’d seen playing in a pub and she’d just had a number one in America. -

“I think you should have a chat with him,” Niall said. “Just informally, you know?” 

“I don’t know,” Louis said. “Liam’s been with me since the start and I--” 

“You hate your album, Lou,” Niall said, butting Louis’ arm with the top of his head. “You said you’d be embarrassed for people to hear it. You need to do something.” 

Louis nodded. He knew he did. 

“It doesn’t have to be a big thing,” Niall said. “I can just invite him to the pub tonight.” 

“Yeah?” Louis said. 

“Yeah,” Niall said. “I’ll ring him now. He’s a good lad. Get up, yeah? We’ll go and get McDonalds.” 

Louis finished his tea and then dragged himself out of bed and to the bathroom. He felt marginally more human after a hot shower, but he was still rough. 

“Have you seen my phone?” He asked Niall, who was out on the terrace again, chair pushed back, feet up on the table, texting on his own phone. 

“Yeah,” Niall said, gesturing at the table. “It was on the floor actually. Must’ve knocked it off last night. I charged it for ya.” 

“Shit,” Louis said. He picked it up and inspected it for damage, but it seemed fine. He entered his passcode and saw he had six texts, all from Harry. He felt something flutter in his stomach - had he called Harry last night? 

‘Miss you too’ the first text said. ‘What are you doing?’ 

‘I want you too’ the second text said. ‘How drunk are you?’ 

The third text said: ‘Too drunk to call?’ 

The fourth said ‘Let me know you’re ok, ok?’ 

The fifth said ‘Drink some water, Lou’ followed by the monkey covering his eyes emoji.   
The last one said ‘Ring me tomorrow, yeah? I really miss you. Hope your head’s not too bad.’ 

“Shit,” Louis said, staring down at the phone. “I texted Harry last night.” 

“I know, mate,” Niall said without looking up from his phone. “I thought you were sending a dick pic. Did you send a dick pic?” 

“What is it with you and dick pics?” 

Niall shrugged. “Melly liked a dick pic.” 

“Christ,” Louis said. “Too much information, Nialler.” 

He was almost afraid to look, but he scrolled back up his texts to read what he’d sent to Harry. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, when he saw the texts. “I should lock my phone away before I get pissed.” 

“What?” Niall said. “Did you propose.” 

Louis took a deep breath. “I told him I wanted him. And that he’s hot. And that I…” 

“What?” Niall asked, actually looking up from his phone. 

“That I love his cock,” Louis said. 

Niall laughed so hard he had a coughing fit. 

“It could’ve been worse,” Louis said. “I typed that I love him, but I obviously didn’t manage to send it.” 

“Do you?” Niall said. “Love him.” 

“I can’t do, can I?” Louis said. “I’ve only known him a week.” 

“Bollocks,” Niall said. “It doesn’t matter how long you’ve known him. You feel what you feel. And if you wanted to tell him when you were pissed… What’s that expression? Something about, you know, telling the truth. When you’re pissed.” 

“Is there? I dunno…” Louis pictured Harry and his stomach fluttered. His stomach fluttered every time he thought about Harry. His stomach fluttered and his dick twitched.   
“It’s definitely not just sex,” Louis said. “I really like him. But thank fuck i didn’t send that text - it would’ve scared the shit out of him.” 

“You don’t know that,” Niall said. “He might be home right now embroidering ‘I heart Louis’ on a cushion.” 

“Fuck off,” Louis laughed, but the ridiculous thing was he could totally picture it. And he sort of wanted it to be true. 

*

A couple of hours later, Louis sat down on his bed and rang Harry. 

“Heyyyy!” Harry said, straight away. 

Louis rolled onto his stomach, something warm filling his chest just at the sound of Harry’s voice. “Hey. Sorry about last night.” 

Harry laughed. “How hungover are you?” 

“Not too bad now, but I was rough earlier. We’ve been to McD’s and had a bit of a walk for some fresh air. It’s nice here.” 

“It’s nice here too,” Harry said. “Sunny, but it’s a bit cold.” 

“What are you doing today?” Louis asked. “Are you working, I can’t remember.” 

“Not til later. Just hanging out with Ed for now. He’s working on a new song.” 

“I listened to his stuff again on the way over,” Louis said. He wasn’t sure how much to tell   
Harry. He wanted to tell him everything, but that probably wasn’t a good idea. “I’m meeting this guy later, mate of Niall’s…” 

“Yeah?” Harry said. 

“Yeah. I’m… not really happy with my album so I wanted to… look into some options.” 

“That sounds like a good idea,” Harry said. “But I’m sure it’s great.” 

“It’s not,” Louis said. “It’s fucking awful.” 

Harry laughed. “I don’t believe that. I can’t wait to hear it.” 

“Fuck, no. I can’t stand the thought of you listening to it.” 

There was a short silence and then Harry said, “Okay.” 

“Shit!” Louis said, lurching up on the bed. “I didn’t mean that. I mean I can’t stand the thought of you hearing how shit it is. Otherwise, you… I…” Louis didn’t know how to end that sentence. ‘If I was proud of it, you’d be the first person I’d want to play it to’ is what he wanted to say, but it was too soon for that, wasn’t it? 

“S’okay,” Harry said. “I know how Ed gets sometimes. Music’s so personal.” 

“It’s not that, Haz, honestly,” Louis said. He stared down at his knees and pictured Harry at home, in his home. “It’s hard to explain.” 

“Where are you?” Louis asked. 

“At home,” Harry said. 

“But where? Are you on the balcony?” 

“I was when you rang, but I’m up in my room now. Ed was frowning at me for interrupting his creativity.” 

Louis laughed. There was another short silence. 

“I liked your texts,” Harry said, sounding almost shy. 

“Oh shit,” Louis said. “So embarrassing. Sorry.” 

“Nah,” Harry said. “You think I’m ‘fckn hot’. Good to know.” 

Louis laughed, his face heating up. “Oh shit, don’t.” 

“And you like my ‘cck’, apparently.” 

Louis could hear the smile in Harry’s voice. It made him want to fly home immediately. 

“I do,” Louis said, his own cock perking up with interest. “I do like your cck.” 

Harry laughed. “I like your cck too.” 

Louis bit at his lip and wondered whether Harry might be interested in phone sex. He wasn’t sure what the etiquette was. Particularly since he was sober and it was the middle of the afternoon. Was it too seedy? He pressed the heel of his hand against his crotch. 

“Louis,” Harry said, his voice deep and low. “Are you still there?” 

“Fuck,” Louis breathed. “I was wondering about the etiquette of phone sex.” 

Harry barked out a laugh and Louis grinned into the phone. 

“I don’t know the etiquette either,” Harry said, but I’ve already got one hand in my pants, if that helps you. Your voice…” 

“Shit, Harry,” Louis said, pulling his hardening dick free of his tracksuit bottoms. “I wish you were here.” 

“What would you do to me if I was,” Harry murmured. 

Louis groaned. “I’d… What are you wearing?” 

Harry laughed again. “Jeans and a hoodie.” 

“A hoodie? Really? And your ridiculously tight black jeans?” 

“No,” Harry said. “Blue jeans. Tight, but not too tight. Bare feet.” 

Louis’ belly fluttered. “Okay. Okay. So I would pull your jeans down as far as I could and get my hand on your cock.” 

“My cck,” Harry said, his smile audible. 

“Your rck hrd cck,” Louis confirmed, grinning into the phone. “I’d just hold it for a while. Get used to the weight of it in my hand. And then I’d move down the bed and swirl my tongue over the head.” 

Harry made a sound along the lines of “Hnng.” 

“And I’d taste you,” Louis’ breathing was stuttering. “I wish I could taste you now, Haz. I miss the taste of you. Not just your cock. Your skin. Your mouth.” 

“Fuck, Louis,” Harry said. 

“I’d lick you and suck you until you were falling apart. I’d hold your hips down to stop you moving up or…” 

“Or?” Harry groaned. 

“Or I’d put my hands behind my back and let you fuck my mouth.” 

“Oh my god,” Harry said. 

Louis could hear the ticking sound of Harry’s hand working his cock. He tugged at his own, brushing his palm over the head to spread some of the wetness and make the slide easier. 

“Are you…” Harry said, his voice cracking. “Are you jerking off?” 

“Fuck,” Louis breathed. “Yeah.” 

“Keep talking,” Harry said. 

Louis pictured himself on his knees at the foot of his bed at home, his hands behind his back, Harry’s cock in his mouth, Harry’s hips moving, pushing his dick down Louis’ throat. 

“I don’t know…” Louis said. “I don’t know what to say, shit. I’m bad at this, sorry.” 

“I’m holding your head,” Harry said and Louis groaned. “One hand in your hair. My fingers are touching your cheek and I can feel…” He paused and Louis heard him gasp. Louis gripped the base of his dick firmly as heat pooled in his belly. 

“I can feel…” Harry continued. “I can feel the outline of my cock… in your mouth. I can feel you… swallowing around me and…” 

Louis groaned, his hips jerking up, his hand moving faster. 

“I’m close,” he murmured, his eyes squeezing shut. 

“What do you want?” Harry almost-whispered and Louis heard himself make a sound halfway between a groan and a whimper. 

“I want you to come on my face,” he said before he had time to change his mind. 

“Fuck,” Harry grunted. “I’m coming, Lou.” 

Harry shouted out and Louis came hard into his own hand. 

The both just breathed into the phone for a while, Louis picturing Harry lying back on his bed, his softening dick in his hand, come pooling on his belly. He wanted to be there with him. 

“Holy shit,” Harry said after a few more seconds. 

“I’ve never done that before,” Louis said, wiping his hand on his t-shirt and letting out a heavy breath. 

“Phone sex?” Harry said. 

“Yeah. I always thought it would be really embarrassing.” 

“M’not embarrassed,” Harry said. “Are you?” 

“Nope,” Louis said, popping the p. “Might be when Niall tells me how much he heard though. Hang on a sec.” 

Louis put the phone down on the bed next to him and sat up, pulling his t-shirt off and balling it up, ready to shove back in his holdall. 

“How’s your head?” Harry asked when Louis picked his phone up again. 

Louis laughed. “Better, I think. Bit dizzy right now, not gonna lie.” 

Harry laughed too and Louis wanted to keep him on the phone forever. 

“Yeah,” Harry said. “I might have a nap now.” 

Louis pictured Harry on his bed, soft and sleepy. “Send me a photo,” Louis said. 

“Of what?” Harry asked. 

“Of you. Right now.” 

“Yeah?” Harry’s voice was soft. 

“If that’s ok?” Louis stared down at his feet, his toes flexing and curling. “Harry?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Is this too much? Am I being… Tell me if I’m being too much, yeah?” 

There was a short silence during which Louis contemplated throwing himself off the terrace and into the sea. 

“Not too much for me,” Harry said, eventually, his voice soft. 

“Fuck,” Louis said, something that felt like electricity running under his skin. 

“I miss you,” Harry said. “I really fucking miss you.” 

“Me too,” Louis said. “I’ll be back on Monday.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“So I can come round?” 

“You’d fucking better.” 

Harry laughed. “Text me when you know what flight you’re on, yeah? So I can, you know, prepare myself.” 

“Fuck,” Louis said, laughing. “I’m leaving now. I’ll be on the next flight.” 

Harry laughed again. “Haven’t you got to meet someone? About your album?” 

“Fuck that. Fuck my album.” Louis grinned. 

“Nah, don’t do that. I’ve pre-ordered it. You’d have to give me the fourteen quid.” 

Louis blinked. “Seriously?” 

Harry laughed again. God, Louis loved the sound of his laugh. Loved that he laughed so much. “No, I’ll let you off.” 

“Not about the fourteen quid,” Louis said. “Have you seriously pre-ordered it?” 

“Of course,” Harry said, simply and Louis found himself off the bed, standing up and pacing the room. 

“Harry,” he said. He was genuinely considering leaving and flying home to Harry. Who missed him, who wanted to fuck him, who’d pre-ordered his shit album. 

“What?” Harry said. 

“I’m so fucking glad I met you,” Louis said. 

“Ditto,” Harry replied. 

“Are you Ghost-quoting me?” 

Harry laughed. “Not intentionally.” 

Louis walked round the bed to the window and pressed his forehead against the cool glass. 

“How’s Niall doing?” Harry asked. 

“He’s okay, I think,” Louis said. “Most of the time he seems like his usual self - loud and drinking and taking the piss out of me - but every now and then he just sort of… crumbles. I really feel for him.” 

“They were together for a long time,” Harry says. 

Louis nods, his skin squeaking against the glass. “They were. And he had no idea. That’s what’s killing him. He didn’t see it coming.” 

“And there’s no chance they might get back together?” Harry asked. 

“I don’t know. Maybe. I think that’s what he’s hoping, that maybe she’s trying to teach him not to take her for granted, you know?” 

“Yeah,” Harry said. “I hope so.” 

“Me too. I’d better go.”

“Okay,” Harry said. 

“Haz?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Send me that photo.”


	11. Chapter 11

“Oi oiiiiiiiiiiii!” Niall shouted as they walked into the pub. 

About half the heads turned round, the rest ignoring him and focussing on their drinks. But then there was an “oi oiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii” response from somewhere in the pub and Niall headed towards it, Louis following in his wake. 

Niall’s mates seemed to have taken over an entire room at the back of the pub. It was pretty small and cosy, with bare brick walls, wooden beams on the ceiling, a wood-burning stove and French doors out onto the garden and smoking terrace. 

Louis stood back feeling like a bit of a spare prick while Niall bounced from one friend to the next, hugging them, punching them in the arms, making them laugh. Everyone looked delighted to see Niall, and Louis got it. He had always been delighted to see Niall himself. He had no idea how Niall did it, effortlessly charming everyone. It was impressive. 

“Louis!” Niall yelled, turning round and reaching out to drag Louis over to the far corner of the room, near the windows. “This is James Corden. James - this is Louis. Tomlinson.” 

“Good to meet you,” Louis said, holding out his hand. 

James - younger and chunkier than Louis was expecting - grasped Louis’ hand in both of his and said, “Great to meet you, man! I’m a big fan!” 

Louis was never sure whether to believe someone when they said that. And, if he was honest, he usually erred on the side of nope, but James was staring at him, sincerity all over his face and so Louis said, “Yeah? That’s really good to hear. Thanks.” 

“Your last album, man,” James said, shaking his head, his eyes crinkling he was smiling so much. “I love every single track. Every last one. So many bangers.” 

Louis laughed, while Niall yelled, “See! Told ya!” 

There’s another “Oi! Oiiiiiiiiii!” from the other part of the pub and Niall said, “Fuck me!” And disappeared. 

“Love him,” James said, as they both watched him go. “Top lad.” 

“He is,” Louis said. “And I’d better get a drink if I’m going to keep up with him tonight.”

“I’ll get you one!” James said. “Niall said you wanted to talk to me? Wait there and I’ll get you a drink and then we can chat, yeah?” 

Once James had gone, Louis tried to think of what he wanted to say. He hadn’t quite expected to be thrown right into the deep end, but he figured it was better to get it out of the way. While he was still sober. 

James came back with two bottles of Corona for Louis and another pint for himself, even though he hadn’t finished his first. 

“It’s packed in there, I was worried we wouldn’t get to the bar again for a while.” 

Louis smiled. Niall was right, he liked James already. But he liked Liam too, that didn’t make him the right person to be responsible for his career. 

“So,” James said, licking lager foam off his top lip. “How can I help?” 

And Louis told him everything. He told him that he loved Liam, but he thought Liam sided with the record company too much. He told him that he hated his album and he didn’t want to put it out. He told him how he felt trapped and that he’d somehow found himself far away from where he wanted to be and he didn’t know if he could get back. 

James listened intently, stepping closer to Louis and cocking his head when the pub got too loud. He nodded and sometimes frowned and Louis felt himself relax the more he told him. 

“Right,” James said, when Louis had finally finished talking. “Right.” He took a long drink of his lager and Louis took the opportunity to finish his own. His throat was dry and tight from talking. Also, to his surprise, he’d felt a bit tearful going over his history with Liam and the disappointments he’d suffered during his career. 

“First of all,” James said, “I want to say that I can absolutely see where Liam’s coming from.   
It’s really hard to balance the record company and the artist. And when you’re dealing with someone like Simon Cowell…” He shook his head and sucked in a breath, like a plumber quoting for a difficult job. “But he works for you. And if you’re not happy, that should be his priority. Have you told him how you feel about the album? Hinted at it, even?” 

Louis frowned. “I think he knows I’m not keen. But no, I haven’t told him in so many words.” 

“Well that should be your first step,” James said. “He might surprise you. He might well go and talk to Cowell and get an extension on the album.” 

Louis nodded. Why hadn’t he just talked to Liam? He should’ve just talked to Liam. 

“But,” James said. “There’s a reason you haven’t talked to Liam already. And that needs to be addressed too.” 

Louis picked up his second beer and gulped some down. “Is it that I’m chickenshit?” Louis said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

James laughed, throwing his head back. “No. No. It’s a tough relationship. It needs to be friendly, but professional too. Tough balance.” 

“Yeah,” Louis said. 

“Why do you really think you haven’t talked to him?” 

Louis suddenly felt almost like he was talking to a therapist. He wanted to tell James everything and let James make it all better. He was going to have to buy Niall something cool. 

“I think because…” Louis looked through the doors to the garden, where he could see someone smoking, the orange tip of the cigarette glowing in the shadows. “I think because I know he can talk me round. He’s always been able to talk me round before. And I really don’t want him to do it this time.” 

“And do you know what you want instead?” James said. 

Louis nodded. He wanted a cigarette actually. Even though he’d given up three years earlier. 

“I want to make an album I’m proud of,” Louis said. 

“Not too much to ask,” James said, resting a hand on Louis’ shoulder. 

Louis smiled at him. “No.” 

So why did it feel like such a huge deal? 

 

“You two getting on?” Niall said, bouncing over to them and flinging an arm around Louis’ shoulders. 

“Yeah,” Louis said. “It’s all good.” 

“Yeah?” Niall said, pressing a kiss to Louis’ temple and then rubbing his hand through his hair. 

“So how are you doing, Niall?” James said. Niall started talking and Louis excused himself to go to the bathroom. 

The loos were in the main part of the pub and, as he made his way through, he saw a group of girls spot him and start chattering excitedly, half-rising out of their seats, but then dropping back down when they saw where he was headed. 

In the bathroom, he locked himself in a cubicle, peed, and then dropped the lid, sitting down on top of it. He’d been doing a lot of hiding in toilets the last couple of days, he realised. He opened his phone and tapped on the photos, the picture Harry had sent him earlier filling the screen. Harry was lying on his back, holding the phone up over his face. His long hair was spread out over his pillow. He was smiling, his huge dimple like an apostrophe at the corner of his mouth, the small dark mole just underneath it turning it into a semi colon. There was a hint of stubble on his top lip and just under his chin. And he looked beautiful. 

Louis texted: ‘missing you again. This is embarrassing’ before washing his hands and heading back out into the pub. 

The girls he’d seen on the way to the loo stopped him for selfies and he bought them all drinks before making his way back to Niall and James. At some point Niall had bought more beer over, so Louis picked up his bottle and wandered over to the French doors. There was a group of lads - Niall’s friends - that he knew vaguely, but not by name, smoking at the far end and James and Niall were standing just outside the doors. Louis stepped outside, accepted another beer from Niall and looked up at the sky. 

They stayed outside for as long as it took them to finish their beers. The night was warm, the sky dark and sprinkled with stars, and the laughter travelling up the garden from Niall’s friends was making Louis feel restless. He wanted to spend more time like this. Just hanging out with friends. Not working all the time. Not worrying about whether his friends were really friends or hangers-on. He wanted what Niall had. 

“Fuck me,” Niall said, close to Louis’ ear. “Bressie! I didn’t expect him to be here. He--” 

“What?” Louis said, turning round to see whatever it was that had - finally - shut Niall up. 

Louis looked through the room to the main part of the pub where Niall’s former rugby player friend Bressie was taking up most of the archway between the rooms. He looked at Niall, who was breathing heavily, his lips thin, cheeks flushed. 

“What?” Louis said. “What’s wrong?” 

But then he saw exactly what was wrong. Standing slightly to the left and a little behind Bressie was Melissa. And she was holding his hand. 

“No,” Niall murmured. 

“Ni--” Louis said, grabbing his arm. 

“Abso-FUCKING-lutely NOT,” Niall said, yanking his arm away from Louis’ and pushing his way back inside the pub. 

“Shit,” Louis said. 

“Is that--” James started to say. 

“Niall’s ex, yeah,” Louis said. 

He followed Niall through the room and almost slammed into the back of him when he stopped dead in front of Bressie. 

“It wasn’t planned,” Bressie said, looking down at Niall. He was at least twelve inches taller than him. 

“It wasn’t,” Mel said, letting go of Bressie’s hand and holding both her hands out to Niall. “I promise, it--” 

“I don’t give a fuck,” Niall said. “I don’t give a fuck what happened or when it happened or how it happened. I never want to see either of you again.” 

“Niall…” Louis said, putting his hand on his friend’s shoulder. 

Niall shook it off. “No. Fuck this. He’s meant to be my friend.” 

He shoved Bressie, his hands flat against his chest. Bressie obviously wasn’t expecting it, because he staggered backwards slightly but then righted himself and said, “Niall. I--” 

“Fuck off,” Niall spat. “Just fuck right off.” 

Mel shook her head. She was holding Bressie’s hand again, Louis hadn’t seen her take it. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, but Niall was already pushing past Louis and back through the room towards the garden. 

“Fuck,” Louis murmured. 

“We didn’t know he was here,” Mel told Louis. 

Louis nodded. 

“I didn’t want him to find out like this,” Mel said. 

“I’ll talk to him,” Louis said. “But probably not tonight.” 

“Right,” Mel said. “Thanks.” 

The three of them stood looking at each other. Louis had met Bressie a couple of times before, been out drinking with him and Niall. He was a good bloke. He and Niall had been friends since school. 

“I’d better go and…” Louis said, glancing over his shoulder. He couldn’t see Niall. 

“Yeah,” Mel said. “It was good to see you.” 

Louis smiled. “You too.” 

“It really wasn’t planned,” Mel said. 

Louis didn’t know what to say. It didn’t really matter whether it was planned or not, did it? 

“Look after him,” Mel said. 

“I will,” Louis said. “Don’t worry.” 

Bressie dropped one massive hand down on Louis’ shoulder and then he and Mel disappeared back into the main part of the pub. Louis hoped they were leaving altogether, but he didn’t have time to watch, he had to go and find Niall. 

James was still standing on the terrace, but there was no sign of Niall or the group of lads that had previously been down the bottom of the garden. 

“He’s down there,” James said, gesturing. “He told everyone to get away.” 

Louis nodded and crossed the lawn to find Niall. He was slumped against the trunk of a tree, halfway behind the bin shed, his knees pulled up to his chest, his head hanging down, shoulders heaving. 

“Oh shit,” Louis said, dropping down to the ground next to him. “Ni...” 

Niall glanced up briefly, his face wet, eyes red, and then dropped his head back down. Louis pressed up against his side, curled his arm around his shoulders and let him cry. 

“I need to get absolutely fucked,” Niall said wetly into Louis’ shoulder. 

Louis laughed, kissing the top of Niall’s head. “Again?” 

“Until I can stop picturing him fucking her, yeah.” 

“Shit,” Louis said. 

“I’ve seen his dick,” Niall said, sitting up and dropping his head back against the wall. “I don’t envy her.” 

Louis laughed. “I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah. Thanks.” Niall ran his hands back through his hair. “You know what the worst fucking thing is? It’s my own fault. I took her for granted. I never really told her how…” His voice cracked and he took a deep breath before continuing. “I never told her how much I loved her, you know?” 

“Why not?” Louis asked. “I mean, you tell everyone. You tell me all the time.” 

Niall nodded. “I know. That pissed her off too. Like I’d say ‘love you, man’ on the phone to a mate and sometimes I’d see her look at me…” 

“You did tell her though, right?” Louis said. “I mean… you told her that you love her.” 

“I said ‘I love you’, yeah,” Niall said. “But that was all. Same as I say it to you. Or to, you know, the fucking pizza delivery guy. I never told her how I felt. I just… I didn’t tell her why I love her. Or how much I want to be with her. Any of that shit.” 

“Why not?” Louis said. 

“Cos it fucking terrifies me.” 

“Yeah,” Louis said, his hand itching to take his phone out, to open the picture of Harry. “I get that.” 

“You need to tell him, Lou. If you love him you need to tell him. And don’t tell me you don’t love him cos you clearly fucking do, ya dickhead.” 

Louis nodded. “Shit.” 

“I know,” Niall said, butting Louis’ shoulder with his head. “You’re fucked.” 

Louis stood up and pulled Niall to his feet and then into a hug. 

“You’re going to be ok?” He said. He’d meant it to be a statement rather than a question, but hadn’t quite managed it. 

“Yeah,” Niall said. “I’ll have to be, won’t I?” 

They made their way back over to the terrace, where James was sitting on a massive bright pink beanbag, one of the girls who’d stopped Louis for a selfie earlier was cross-legged on the floor next to him. She got up when she saw Louis and Niall and headed back inside. 

“Wanted to give me a demo,” James said, holding his beer bottle up to Louis and Niall in greeting. 

“Wanted to give you something, alright,” Niall said, pulling a chair over from further along the terrace. 

James grinned and rolled his eyes. 

Louis grabbed a chair for himself and the three of them sat in silence for a bit. 

“You ok, mate?” James asked Niall, reaching over and patting him on the shoulder. 

“Will be when I’m about five thousand per cent more drunk,” Niall said, standing up again and going inside to the bar. 

*

“Can I ask you something else?” Louis asked James, once they were alone. His stomach was twisting with nerves, as his fingers picked at the knee of his jeans. He thought about the photo of Harry on his phone. He remembered Harry back in London, in his bed. 

“Course,” James said. 

“I’m gay,” Louis said, glancing up at James and then back down again. “And I’d like to come out.” 

James blew out a breath. “Wow.” 

“Yeah,” Louis said, nodding. 

“That’s going to be a tough one,” James said. 

“Yeah,” Louis said again. 

“Does anyone know?” James asked. 

“They all know,” Louis said. “And they’ve all made it very clear - right from the start, right from The Voice - that coming out is not an option.” 

“This is your last album for them?” James asked. 

Louis nodded. 

“And I assume you have the morals clause in your contract.” 

Louis nodded again, his chest feeling tight. 

“That makes it harder,” James said. 

“That’s what she said,” Niall said, coming through the French doors with more beers and a tray of shots. 

“I was asking James about coming out,” Louis said. 

“Oh fuck,” Niall said, sitting down and putting the drinks down between them. “Sorry. Go on then.” 

“So you think I’ve got no chance?” Louis asked James. 

“I didn’t say that,” James said. “It just makes it trickier. Why don’t you talk to Liam on Tuesday and give me a ring later in the week when you know where you stand.” 

Louis nodded. “Yeah. I’ll do that. Thanks.” 

“No problem,” James said. 

Niall bumped Louis with his shoulder and then dropped an arm around him. It wasn’t the most comfortable thanks to Louis’ chair being higher than Niall’s, but Louis leaned into it anyway. 

“I’m proud of you, man,” Niall said. 

Louis smiled. “Thanks. But I haven’t done anything yet.” 

Niall rubbed his head against Louis’ shoulder. “Don’t care. Still proud.” 

*

“Fuck,” Louis said, rolling onto his side and blinking at the light. 

He was lying on the bathroom floor. The floor was cold and he was cold. Because he was naked. He was naked on the bathroom floor and he felt like shit. He managed to drag himself up to his hands and knees and crawl over to the loo, where he rested his head on his arms and waited for whatever the hell he’d drunk last night to reappear. 

He couldn’t remember getting home. He had a vague image of running down an alleyway with Niall and some other lads, laughing. It was dark and… had someone fallen over? He pictured flashing lights, but couldn’t think whether it was a police car or a club or a kebab shop. His stomach churned and he lurched up over the loo. 

Once he finished throwing up, he crawled into the shower and then dragged himself into the kitchen. He needed tea. Niall was sitting at the dining table, forehead down on his folded arms. He was wearing a t-shirt, underpants and socks, and his hair was sticking up at random angles. 

“What time did you get up?” Louis said, filling the kettle, wincing at the sound of the running water. 

“Think I slept here,” Niall said, his voice muffled by his arms. “My back’s fucked.” 

“I don’t remember anything after the pub,” Louis said, opening cupboards, trying to find mugs and tea and sugar. 

“Draining board,” Niall said, without looking up. “And the small cupboard.” 

Louis made the tea, his eyes only half-open, and then sat down opposite Niall. 

“My knee is fucking killing me,” Niall said. “I think some of it’s missing, but I’m scared to look.” 

Louis leaned down to look under the table, his hands pressed to his temples. “Bruise,” he said, sitting back up. “I thought I remembered someone falling over.” 

“Oh shit, yeah,” Niall said. “We went to get kebabs.” 

Louis suddenly pictured them in a small, brightly-lit, hut. Niall laughing as he squeezed curry sauce onto his kebab. He blinked at Niall. “I think you’ve got a bit of shredded lettuce in your hair.” 

Niall snorted and then pressed his fingers to his forehead. “Shit. That hurt.” 

He propped his head up on his fist and drank some of his tea. “What time’s your flight?” 

“Five? Something like that. Later, anyway. But I can stay if--” 

“No,” Niall said. “Ta. But no. Get back to your boy. And talk to Liam. Sort your life out.” 

“Will you be ok?” Louis asked. 

“I’ll be here. Regretting my life choices.” Niall drank some more tea and then smiled weakly at Louis. “I’m back in the studio tomorrow. I’ll be fine.” 

“You sure? I can push the meeting back and--” 

“You need the meeting. Don’t push it back. Rip off the band aid. Fuck your boyfriend. Tell him you love him. Don’t make my mistakes.” 

“Shit,” Louis said, feeling the steam from his tea warm his face. “That all sounds terrifying.” 

“Even the fucking?” 

Louis laughed. “Yeah. Even the fucking. I’ve seen his dick.” 

Niall laughed loudly and Louis grinned, pleased with himself. 

“It’ll all be worth it in the end,” Niall said, resting his head again and looking at Louis with one eye. “My mam always says ‘What’s meant for you won’t pass you by.’” 

“I’ve heard that before,” Louis said. “It’s bollocks.” 

Niall laughed without looking up. “Yeah. But fuck it all anyway.”


	12. Chapter 12

Louis walked out through Arrivals, his holdall heavy on his back. He stopped and glanced over to the Spar in the corner - he could really do with some more water - but at the same time he just wanted to get home as soon as possible. 

He turned towards the taxi rank and-- 

Harry. 

Harry was standing just a few feet away, smiling shyly. His hair was in a bun, he was wearing his ridiculous black jeans and a jumper with St Paul’s Cathedral on it and Louis wanted to jump into his arms like a girl in a film. Shit. 

“Hey,” he said instead. 

“Hey,” Harry said back. He took a couple of steps closer, biting his lip, clearly nervous about what Louis’ reaction was going to be. 

‘Fuck it,’ Louis thought. He let his holdall fall down to the floor and held his arms out to Harry. Harry took another step and almost slammed into him, his arms wrapping around him, pressing Louis to his chest, one massive hand between Louis’ shoulder blades, the other in the small of his back. 

“I missed you so fucking much,” Louis murmured against his neck. 

“Yeah,” Harry said. “Yeah.” 

Harry ended the hug, gently pushing Louis back and jerking his head towards the doors. 

“You ready?” 

“How did you--” 

“Borrowed a car. Come on.” 

“Fuck,” Louis whispered, picking up his bag. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone holding up a phone, knew there’d be photos of him and Harry on Twitter in about thirty seconds, but couldn’t bring himself to care. Harry had come to the airport. Harry had come to pick him up from the airport. Harry had missed him too

“It’s just over there,” Harry said, gesturing across two roads to the short stay parking bays. 

“Whose car?” Louis said. 

He was having to concentrate incredibly hard not to touch Harry. He wanted to grab his hand. He wanted to slide his fingers up under the hem of Harry’s jumper. He wanted to get his mouth on those fucking laurel tattoos. 

“Perrie’s,” Harry said. “I had to promise to do an extra shift for her, but I thought…” 

He glanced at Louis, biting his lip again. Louis wanted to bite it for him. 

“Worth it,” Louis said, his voice cracking. 

“Yeah,” Harry said, his face transforming into a smile. “It’s just here.” 

Harry unlocked the door of Perrie’s car. It was an original Mini. Absolutely tiny. And brown, with blooming orange patches of rust. 

“You sure this’ll get us home?” Louis said, his stomach fluttering at the thought of home.   
And of being home with Harry. 

Harry laughed. “Yeah, she says so.” 

He folded himself into the driver’s seat and then reached over to unlock the passenger door for Louis. As soon as Louis was inside, he turned to Harry, who was half-leaning towards him. 

“I can’t,” Louis said. “Sorry.” 

Harry shook his head. “It’s ok. And Perrie made me promise we wouldn’t fuck in here anyway.” He flushed pink. 

Louis snorted, even as he felt his dick stirring in his trackie bottoms. “I’m pretty sure that’d   
be physically impossible.” He looked over his shoulder at the tiny backseat. “You’d never get your giraffe legs folded up back there.” 

“Is that a challenge?” Harry said, glancing at Louis, one eyebrow raised. 

Louis was struck by how quickly harry could go from turning pink at the word ‘fuck’ to   
being sexy as hell. It was disorientating. 

Harry started the car and Louis half-turned in his seat to watch Harry drive. His massive hands on the wheel and the gear stick, his tongue poking out slightly in concentration as he craned his neck looking for a gap in the traffic. Louis pressed a hand to his crotch. 

“So… how was it?” Harry said, once they were out on the main road. 

Louis blew out a breath. 

“It was… a lot,” he said. 

Harry had put his phone on a small recessed shelf in the dashboard and as they pulled out of the airport car park and onto the main road, a voice advised him of the route. 

“How long did it take you to get here?” Louis asked him. 

“About an hour,” Harry said. 

“I can’t believe you came to pick me up.” 

Harry glanced over, smiling at him. “I couldn’t wait for you to get home. I just really wanted to see you.” 

“Me too,” Louis said. He reached over and hooked a finger under Harry’s jumper, stroking his skin. 

Harry groaned, his head tipping back briefly, his knuckles tightening on the steering wheel. 

“I… Lou,” Harry said, his voice rough. “I haven’t driven much in London. I need to concentrate.” 

“Sorry,” Louis said, pulling his hand back. “I just--” 

“I know,” Harry said. He reached out quickly, his hand sliding across Louis’ jaw. Louis gasped, shifting in his seat. Harry’s hand was already back on the wheel, his gaze straight ahead. 

Louis found himself glancing down side streets, looking for places they could stop so he could get his hands on Harry. They couldn’t do it, he knew - nothing would be more likely to derail his future career plans quicker than a public gay sex scandal - but it didn’t stop him fantasising about it. 

“So I suppose it would be too distracting if I got myself off?” Louis said, pressing his hand to his dick again. 

Harry laughed - one of his goofy, honking, laughs that Louis loved - “Yeah. Little bit.” 

“Damn,” Louis said. 

Harry glanced at him, cheeks pink, eyes bright, lips wet. “It’ll be worth the wait.” 

“Oh fuck,” Louis said. “I might not survive. By the time we get home I might’ve died of the horn.” 

Harry laughed again. “I don’t think that’s a thing.” 

“It will be. I’ll be a medical miracle. I’ll be studied.” 

Harry glanced at him again, biting his lip, and Louis groaned. 

“Jesus Christ. We need to talk about something else or I swear to god I’ll either come in my pants or mount you as you drive and kill us both.” 

“Tell me about Niall,” Harry said, his voice serious. 

“Man. It was bad,” Louis said. “I mean, he was his usual self a lot of the time, you know? He’s just funny and relaxed and gets on with everyone. But then we’d be talking and he’s just… sad. And he blames himself, so--” 

“Why does he?” 

They’d stopped at the traffic lights, so Harry turned to look at Louis. 

“He said he didn’t tell her enough. How he felt. Or show her. He took her for granted, I guess. And then we went out and she was there with one of his best friends.” 

“Ouch,” Harry said, wincing. 

“Yeah. He didn’t take it well. I think he’d been hoping he could make it up to her, you know? He didn’t know she’d moved on.” 

“That sucks,” Harry said, as they pulled away again. 

“Yeah,” Louis said. His brain was running over what Niall had said, about how he was in love with Harry, about how he had to tell him, about how he shouldn’t make the same mistake. It made Louis’ chest feel tight. 

“What’ve you been doing? While I’ve been gone?” 

Harry glanced over and then back at the road. “Working. Bit of painting. Hanging out with   
Ed and Perrie. The usual.” 

“What are you painting?” Louis asked. “I’m picturing Titanic. Ed on a chaise longue…” 

Harry snorted. “Perrie, maybe. No, just an abstract thing. Lots of colour. It’s relaxing.” 

“Yeah?” Louis said. “I’ve never tried it.” 

“It takes all your focus, you know? Like you with music.” 

Louis nodded. “Yeah. When it’s going well. Yeah.” 

“Did you get a chance to talk to James?” Harry asked. 

Louis filled Harry in on his conversation with James, as they pulled onto the North Circular.   
Harry listened and nodded and glanced over at Louis when he could. 

“It sounds like he knows what he’s talking about,” Harry said. 

“Yeah,” Louis said. “He was great. I liked him.” He fiddled with the rip in the knee of his jeans before taking a deep breath and saying, “I asked him about coming out.” 

“Yeah?” Harry said, looking over again. 

Louis forced himself to look back at Harry. His eyes were bright and his cheeks flushed pink.   
He looked hopeful. It made Louis even more convinced he was doing the right thing. 

“Yeah,” Louis said. “He said it’ll be hard, but… I’m going to do it no matter what. I want… If you pick me up from the airport, I want to be able to kiss you, you know?” 

“Fuck, Louis,” Harry said. “How do you feel about speed limits?” 

* 

Louis’ hand shook as he opened the front door. It didn’t help how close Harry was behind him, pressing his erection against Louis’ arse. 

“Do you want me to do it?” Harry said, his mouth right up against Louis’ ear. 

“I can fucking do it,” Louis muttered, and finally the key turned in the lock and they were falling into the house, Harry kicking the door shut behind them both. 

“God,” Harry said, “Come here.” 

Louis pushed Harry back against the door, their hips slotting together, hard cocks pressing alongside each other. “I missed you so fucking much.” 

Harry groaned and slid one hand along Louis’ jaw, tilting his face up so he could get at his mouth. Louis relaxed into the kiss, letting himself lean into Harry, letting Harry hold him up. Harry’s tongue slid along Louis’ lower lip as his fingers dug into the flesh of Louis’ hip. 

“Fuck,” Louis breathed. “I need to get you upstairs. Right fucking now.” 

Harry gently tugged on Louis’ lower lip with his teeth and Louis heard himself whimper. 

Harry jerked his head back, banging it against the door, and then pushed Louis away. “Upstairs. Now.” 

“That’s what I just said,” Louis grinned and headed for the stairs, but they’d only made it up a couple of steps before he felt Harry’s hands on his arse. 

“God,” Harry said. “I’ve missed this arse.” 

Louis turned. He was standing one step higher and so he was actually the same height as Harry. They were eye to eye. Mouth to mouth. It was nice. Louis licked into Harry’s mouth, pushing his fingers into his hair. 

“Thank you for picking me up,” he murmured, without breaking the kiss. 

“Anytime,” Harry said. He slid one hand up under Louis’ hoodie and Louis felt goosebumps break out over his skin. 

“Take this off,” Harry said. “Come on.” 

“Upstairs,” Louis said, stepping backwards up a step. 

“No,” Harry said. “Now. I can’t wait. Come on. Off.” 

Louis laughed as Harry tugged the hoodie over Louis’ head and dropped it over the perspex banister. Louis took another step up as Harry grasped the hem of his t-shirt and tugged that off too. Another step and Harry’s face was level with Louis’ crotch. 

“A-ha,” Harry said. He was smiling, but his voice was low and incredibly sexy. 

Louis groaned. “Haz, come on. Upstairs. Nice comfy bed.” 

Harry tugged at the waistband of Louis’ joggers. “Can’t wait.” 

He leaned forward and pressed his mouth to Louis’ crotch, through the soft grey fabric. 

“Ah,” Louis gasped. His knees actually felt weak. He gripped the banister. “Fuck. Harry.” 

“Later,” Harry said. “Right now I’m going to suck Louis.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Louis said, laughing even as Harry pulled his hard dick free of his pants.   
“That was terrible.” 

Harry grinned up at him, his eyes twinkling, then wrapped one huge hand around Louis’ cock and steadied himself with his other hand on Louis’ hip before sucking Louis right down. 

“Shit,” Louis said, squeezing his eyes closed. “I can’t… I need to sit down.” 

He felt Harry gently easing him backwards until his bum hit a step and he leaned back, his hips involuntarily jerking up towards Harry. 

Harry pulled off with an obscene sucking noise and said, “This okay?” 

“Fuck,” Louis groaned. “Yeah.” 

It wasn’t comfortable, far from it: there was a stair digging into the small of his back, another under his shoulders, another at the back of his neck, but he could put up with it if it because there was also the wet heat of Harry’s mouth, Harry’s fingers pressing into his skin, the sounds Harry was making around his dick. He tried to lift his head to look down at Harry, but that made the press of the step against his neck too painful, so he just allowed himself to lie back. 

Harry’s sucked hard, Louis’ cock deep in his mouth, and then moved back up to swirl his tongue around the head, then press his lips against the tip. 

“I have missed this dick,” Harry murmured and Louis’ hips jerked up again, painful as it was on his back. He felt Harry’s hands under his arse as his tongue dragged slowly down Louis’ length and then he was sucking one of Louis’ balls into his mouth, his tongue swirling and pressing. And then the other. And then he felt Harry’s nose at the base of his dick, his tongue dragging lower. 

“I can’t…” he gasped. “Harry. I’m not going to last. I--” 

One of Harry’s hands grabbed more firmly into the flesh of Louis’ arse as the other returned to wrap around the base of his dick, Harry sinking his mouth down again and sucking. 

“Fuck,” Louis said, his heels kicking back against a lower step. “Fuck.” 

Harry groaned again and Louis felt it thrum through his body. He felt like he was vibrating, like his skin was electrified. Heat started to build at the base of his spine and he straightened his legs, pressing himself further up the steps before relaxing again, Harry’s hand moving as his mouth dragged down the length of Louis’ cock, his tongue flicking quickly under his balls, before sucking him back down again. 

“Harry,” Louis said, tangling his fingers into his long hair, holding his head firm against him. “Harry.” 

Harry made a happy humming sound and Louis was done. His hips jerked up as his other hand smacked flat against the perspex. The sound rang around the hall as Louis yelled out and came down Harry’s throat, his head banging back against the step. 

“Fucking hell,” Louis groaned. 

He felt Harry pulling back, rubbing his mouth across the head of Louis’ cock. He wanted to see him, wanted to see his come on Harry’s ridiculous lips, but he couldn’t even lift his head. 

Harry kissed his hip and then his nipple, his collarbone, and finally he was there, right in front of him. His mouth was red and wet and Louis couldn’t believe he was his. Harry was his and he was Harry’s and he was going to come out and everyone was going to know it. He   
couldn’t wait. 

“Welcome back,” Harry grinned.


	13. Chapter 13

Louis was still thinking about Harry as he walked through the main doors of Payne Management (Liam was very proud of that pun). Harry in their bed - Louis’ bed - last night, swishing his hair over Louis’ chest while he held his hands up over his head (they were definitely going to be doing that again), blowing him in the shower this morning. Louis had known he’d missed Harry while he’d been in Ireland, but he hadn’t realised quite how much he’d missed him until he was home with him again. He never wanted to be away from him. Which was… terrifying. 

As he said hello to Nadine, the receptionist, and headed for the stairs up to Liam’s top floor office, he thought about Harry darting out of bed at 8am to take Perrie’s car back before she had to leave for work. 

“I was hoping we could keep it,” Louis had said, pushing the duvet down to just below his waist to try and distract him. 

“She needs it for work,” Harry had said, wincing as he pulled on the previous day’s pants. 

“I thought we could try that fucking in the back seat thing,” Louis had said, linking his hands behind his head and wriggling the duvet down a little further. 

“Jesus Christ,” Harry had said, turning round to look at him. “I could ask to borrow it again.” 

“Fuck that,” Louis had said. “I’ll buy one.” 

Harry had laughed and crawled back up the bed, grabbing Louis’ hips and grinding down on his crotch. “You do that and I’ll totally make it worth your while.” 

Louis’ hips jerked up and he pulled his hands from behind his head to reach for Harry’s waist and pulled him down flush against him. 

“Deal,” he said against Harry’s mouth. 

“Good,” Harry said, running his tongue along the seam of Louis’ lips. “You know I really want to fuck you, right?” 

Louis groaned, digging his fingers into Harry’s sides, his hard dick pressed back against his own stomach by Harry’s weight. He didn’t have to reply because Harry was sucking on his bottom lip, his hips moving in tiny circles and then they didn’t talk at all for a while. 

He wondered if Perrie would be as pissed off as Harry said or if she’d just be completely charmed by his smile and his eyes and… everything about him. 

“You can go straight in, Lou,” Liam’s assistant, Nora, said. She was usually very smiley and chatty, but she barely looked at him. 

“What’s up with Nora?” Louis said, as he walked into Liam’s office. But then he saw exactly what was up with Nora. What was up with Nora was that Liam wasn’t alone. Simon Cowell was sitting on the other side of the desk. He’d grown some sort of designer stubble since Louis had last seen him and it made him look even shadier than usual. 

“Hello, Louis,” he said and Louis felt his insides turn cold. 

“Simon,” he said, still standing just inside the door. 

“Come in, Lou,” Liam said. He looked nervous. He was fiddling with something on his desk and his cheeks were flushed pink. 

Louis crossed the room and sat down opposite Liam, which meant he was next to Simon. He shifted his seat slightly. 

“So,” Simon said. 

Louis felt like he was back at school, in the headmaster’s office for being disruptive in class. 

“Is this about the album?” he said, because the way Simon was staring at him was making   
his skin crawl and he wanted to get things out of the way. 

“It’s not,” Simon said. “Do you have any other ideas?” 

Louis thought back to the day he first auditioned for The Voice. About how desperate he was to meet Simon Cowell, how he thought he would make Louis a star and be brilliant for his career. He’d been half-right, at least. 

“I don’t,” Louis said. 

Simon opened the laptop that was sitting in front of him on the table. Louis hadn’t even noticed it. Simon turned it towards Louis and said, “Now do you see?” 

It was open to Twitter and the page was filled with tweets featuring photos of Louis and Harry at the airport. In most of them they were hugging, Harry’s face squashed against Louis’ neck, his hand pressing into the small of Louis’ back. In a couple more, Louis was just looking at Harry and the expression on his face made the breath catch in his chest. He looked like he was in love with him. He was looking at Harry like he was in love with him. 

“Click the next tab,” Simon said. And Louis did, trying to hide the fact that his hands were shaking. 

The next tab was tumblr and someone had put together a collection of photos of Louis with Harry. The airport photos were there - the hug was from a different angle and Louis’ face was clear in that one: he looked utterly smitten, both arms tight around Harry’s back. There was one from the pub that first night when he’d gone to see Ed. They weren’t even touching in that one, but Harry was looking down at Louis and his face was soft and fond. God. And then there was one of them walking home that same night, again they weren’t touching, but something about their body language made it clear they were more than friends. 

“I’m sure you’ll agree that we need to fix this,” Simon said. 

Louis looked at Liam, who hadn’t even spoken yet, his mouth was fixed in a thin line, but he seemed to be trying to communicate with Louis with his eyes. Louis wanted to ask him what he should do. He wanted to tell him to stand up to Simon on his behalf. He wanted Liam to be on his side, like he’d been in the beginning. But so much had changed since then, maybe it really was too much to ask. 

“I want to come out,” Louis said. 

Liam groaned. Actually groaned. But it was Simon’s reaction that shocked Louis the most - he threw his head back and laughed. 

Louis had a sudden mental image of grabbing Simon by the throat and it made him jerk back in his chair. He didn’t want to be there. He wanted Harry. He started to stand. He could just leave. What could they do to him? 

“No,” Simon said. “That’s not one of the options we’ve laid out.” 

“Options?” Louis said, still half out of his seat. 

“You could come out,” Simon said, turning the laptop towards himself. 

Louis’ stomach fluttered, as he sat back down. He could come out? “Wha--” 

“But you’d be in breach of contract.” 

Louis looked at Liam who almost looked like he was about to cry. Louis looked back at Simon. 

“And we would take you to court. I know that sounds harsh, but it was all clear in the contract and I’m fairly sure I’ve clarified this question more than once with Liam over the years.” 

Louis looked at Liam again. Liam had talked to Simon about this? And he hadn’t told Louis?   
Liam shook his head almost imperceptibly and Louis felt his throat tighten. He couldn’t cry.   
He wouldn’t cry. 

“The options as I see them,” Simon said. “Are that you find yourself a girlfriend or we find you a girlfriend.” 

Louis shook his head. 

“It’s actually not bad timing,” Simon said. “With the album coming out. Which is why I favour the option of us finding you a girl. Someone high profile. Someone the magazines and the fans will be thrilled to see you with. Not a model, I don’t think. Because of the height issue.” He looked Louis up and down and Louis felt himself squirm in the seat. “But an actress would be good. Or… do you know Ariana Grande? She’s short.” 

“No,” Louis said. 

“Oh well I’m sure I can find someone to introduce the two of you. She’s very swee--” 

“I mean no, I don’t want to do this,” Louis said. 

“I didn’t think you would,” Simon said. “But you really don’t have a choice. Look at it this way. It’s not for long. This is your last album for us. Once the contract ends, you’ll be free to fuck over your career however you like.” 

Louis’ heart was racing. “But… wouldn’t coming out be just as good publicity? It would be a huge story, wouldn’t it?” 

Simon smiled and Louis felt cold. 

“Who are your fans, Louis? Teenage girls. Teenage girls who fancy you. And who, against all evidence to the contrary, think that if they could just meet you, you could be their perfect boyfriend. The perfect boyfriend can’t have a perfect boyfriend of his own. I would have thought that was obvious.” 

“Can I think about it?” Louis mumbled.

“Sorry,” Simon said. “I didn’t catch that.” 

Louis cleared his throat, his eyes still burning. “I said, can I think about it.” 

“I really don’t see that there’s anything to think about,” Simon said, running his fingers along the edges of his shirt. It was unbuttoned too far, Louis could see his chest hair. He looked back over at Liam, who looked like he was going to be sick. 

Liam coughed. “We’ll have a chat and get back to you by the end of the week, okay?”   
“Fine,” Simon said, pushing his chair back and standing up. His chest was bulging in a weird way and Louis wondered if it was true that he’d had pec implants. “You know there’s only   
one option here, Louis,” Simon said, holding out his hand. 

Louis looked at Simon’s hand, the palm smooth and pale, the back covered with black hair.   
“I don’t think so,” Louis said. 

Simon’s smile dropped for just a second and then he laughed. “Oh Louis. I love it when you’re feisty. That takes me right back to your audition. You know, when I told you I’d make you a star?” 

He stared at Louis for a second, then nodded at Liam. And left. 

*

Louis had been sitting in his car, in the driveway of his house, for about twenty minutes. He’d promised Harry he’d ring as soon as he got back from the meeting and he knew that as soon as he rang, Harry would come straight round. And he didn’t want him to. 

He did, of course. He was desperate to see him. He wanted to feel Harry’s arms around him, hear Harry tell him it was fine, they’d sort it out somehow, there had to be a way around it. But he also knew he couldn’t tell him. Not until he was certain there was absolutely no way out of it. He’d left messages for James and Niall, but neither one had got back to him yet. 

His chest felt tight and he wasn’t sure he’d taken a full breath since Simon had walked out of Liam’s office. Or maybe since Louis had walked into Liam’s office and seen Simon there.   
Liam had wanted Louis to stay, to “talk things through” he’d said. But Louis had just left. He hadn’t even been able to look at him. 

Louis took his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it, before scrolling to the photo Harry had sent him while he was in Ireland. Harry in bed, his hair spread out around his head. He was was so beautiful. There was no way Louis could do this to him. He’d be devastated. Louis flicked to the last texts they’d sent each other. Maybe he wouldn’t be. Maybe he’d understand that this was how the entertainment industry worked and that Louis had to do what he had to do. It was only temporary after all. Just until his contract ended. Less than a year. They could deal with it for less than a year, surely. 

‘Where are you?’ Louis texted and tapped send before he could change his mind.   
He should tell Harry not to come over, he knew. That would be the right thing to do. Actually, the right thing to do would be to end things with Harry altogether, but his throat tightened at the thought. He shook his head. 

His phone buzzed in his hand. ‘Home’ Harry had texted. ‘Are you back?’ 

Louis pictured himself telling Harry it was over. He pictured himself texting and telling him not to come round. He pictured himself going into the house alone and never seeing Harry again. 

He texted ‘yes’ and forced himself to get out of the car, walk up the drive, open his front door. He was halfway down the hall when his phone buzzed in his hand and he looked at Harry’s text ‘5 mins’ followed by the heart eyes, aubergine, and rocket emojis. Louis laughed for the first time since he’d left the house that morning. 

*

“How did it go?” Harry said, as soon as Louis opened the door. 

“Not great,” Louis said. “What are you wearing?” 

Harry looked down at himself. “What?” 

“Are those flamingoes?” Louis said, hooking one finger between the buttons and tugging Harry closer. “Have you got flamingoes on your shirt, Harold?” 

Harry grinned, his dimple popping. “I have. And my name’s not Harold. How did your meeting go?” 

Louis undid the top fastened button - which, because it was Harry, was the fourth button on the shirt - and pressed his fingertips to Harry’s warm skin. He already felt better. A bit better. But he needed to feel a lot better. 

“Louis?” Harry said. “Are you okay?” 

“Missed you,” Louis said, ducking his head to press his lips to Harry’s chest. Better. 

Harry slid his arms easily around him, pulling him closer. “Missed you too. Are you going to tell me how the meeting went, or--” 

“Or,” Louis said, pushing his hand further under the shirt and brushing his thumb over Harry’s nipple. 

Harry groaned, tipping his head back, and Louis pressed up against him, grinding their dicks together to leave Harry in absolutely no doubt about how much he wanted him. Much better. 

“Do meetings always make you this horny,” Harry said, Louis’ mouth on his throat. “Cos there’s a brewery rep coming in this week and we could--” 

He gasped as Louis sunk his teeth into the soft spot at the base of his neck. Louis bit down hard. He wanted to leave a mark on Harry. He wanted Harry to know he was his. Because he was absolutely his. And Simon Cowell and his poisonous bullshit could just fuck off. 

“Fuck, Lou,” Harry said, his hands sliding down Louis’ back to grab his arse. “So fucking hot.” 

“I want to show you something,” Louis said, dragging his mouth across Harry’s collarbones. “Come on.” 

He took a step back, grabbing Harry’s arm and tugging him along too. Down the hall to the bottom of the stairs. Harry kept his hands on Louis’ hips, squeezing gently. 

“Can you see it?” Louis said, stepping up the first step and turning back to look at Harry, his lips pressed together to hide his smile. 

“You like being the same height as me,” Harry said, sliding one hand round the back of Louis’ head to pull Louis forward for a kiss. “I like it too. It’s hot.” 

“Not that,” Louis said, undoing another button on the flamingo shirt. Flamingoes, for fuck’s sake. “And I’m not short.” He felt Harry’s stomach suck in under his hand and he pressed his other hand flat against his own hardening dick. 

“Is it a blue plaque?” Harry said, propping his chin on Louis’ shoulder to look behind him at the stairs. “Harry sucked me off here, June 2016” 

Louis snorted, turning his head to kiss just under Harry’s ear as he twisted his fingers into the short hairs at the back of Harry’s neck. “No. But you’re getting warmer.” 

“I’m getting more than warmer,” Harry said. “If you don’t tell me soon we’re going to have a repeat performance. And I’ll buy the blue plaque myself.” 

Louis groaned at the memory of the edge of the steps pressing into his back, the wet heat of Harry’s ridiculous mouth enveloping his cock. 

“On the rail,” Louis said, his voice coming out higher and lighter than usual. “On the perspex.” 

Harry turned his head to one side as Louis dropped his own forehead down against Harry’s shoulder. 

“Oh fuck!” Harry said, loud laughter bursting out of him. “Shit! Was that me or you?” 

“Look at this size of it, Harold,” Louis said, straightening up and pointing at the almost translucent come handprint on the perspex. “That’s clearly your hand.” 

Harry reached over and held his hand up against the mark. 

“You’re right. Perfect fit.” He laughed again. 

“Yeah, all right, Cinderella,” Louis said. “No need to look so smug about it. I won’t be able to look my cleaner in the eye.” 

Harry grinned, surging forward to plant a quick kiss on Louis’ mouth. “I’m sorry. I’ll clean it off.” 

“No fucking way,” Louis said, grinning back. “I’m going to get it permanently etched on.” 

*

“Fuck, Lou,” Harry said, his hips jerking up even though Louis was trying to hold him down. “I want-- god, fuck…” 

Louis sucked one of Harry’s balls into his mouth, his finger brushing gently over his hole. Harry’s heels dug into Louis’ lower back and he jerked his own hips into the mattress. 

“Louis,” Harry said again. He sounded wrecked. Louis looked up at him, but his head was thrown back so all Louis could see was the long column of his throat. It was still daytime and the sun was shining through the window and across the bed. Harry looked golden. 

“Fuck,” Louis murmured, burying his head back down between Harry’s thighs. He licked behind Harry’s balls, trying to reach a little further each time. 

“I want--” Harry said. 

“What?” Louis said, lifting his head again. “What do you want, love?” 

“I want to fuck you,” Harry groaned, lifting his head to look down at Louis, but then dropping it back again. “I want to fuck you.” 

Louis groaned, as his stomach rolled with nerves. “I want you to,” he murmured, his mouth against Harry’s thigh. 

He dug his thumbs into Harry’s hips and Harry groaned again, his thighs tightening around Louis. Louis slid his hands under Harry’s arse and licked again, wondering if he’d know when he’d hit the right spot. He’d done this to Nick, but not very often and it had never been one of his favourite things to do, but he wanted to try with Harry. He wanted to make Harry feel good. 

“Fuck, Lou,” Harry was saying, his voice low and strained. His feet were flat on the bed now and he was moving his hips up, presumably to give Louis better access to let Louis do what he must’ve known Louis was planning to do. 

“Feels so good,” Harry groaned and Louis moved one hand back down, his thumb pressing to Harry’s hole. And then he licked around it. 

Harry’s hips jerked violently and he let out a yell. Louis had to squeeze his own thighs together or he wasn’t going to last. He pressed his thumb in a bit further and licked a bit more enthusiastically. Harry slid his hands into Louis’ hair, but didn’t try to push him further, just stilled them on his head, his fingers scratching at Louis’ scalp. 

Louis pulled his thumb out and moved his hand up to stroke Harry’s dick while he licked at Harry’s rim. The sounds Harry made were absolutely obscene. Louis felt lightheaded. If this is what Harry was like when he was getting rimmed, they were going to have to make it a daily thing. 

“So good, baby,” Harry groaned as Louis flattened his tongue and licked from Harry’s hole to the base of his balls. He swiped his tongue back down and Harry actually whimpered. 

“Fuck,” Louis groaned out. The sounds Harry was making. And ‘baby’. That was new. “Fuck, I can’t… I’m going to come if--” 

“Get up here,” Harry said, tugging at Louis’ hair. “Get up here and let me fuck you.” 

“Not yet,” Louis said, reaching down to squeeze the base of his dick. “I’m not finished here.”   
He probed Harry’s hole with his tongue, pushing it inside while he brushed Harry’s rim with the tip of his index finger. 

Harry’s feet scrabbled up the bed and Louis pulled out again to kiss at the inside of Harry’s thigh. “So good for me, love.” 

“Don’t stop,” Harry groaned. 

“I’m not,” Louis said, reaching for the lube. “I’m not going to stop.” He squeezed the lube onto his hand, rubbing his thumb and fingers together to make sure they were well coated. 

“I’m going to finger you now, ‘kay?” 

Harry groaned again, throwing one arm over his face. 

Louis sat back on his heels to look down at Harry. 

“You look so fucking beautiful, Haz.” 

Harry used the arm that had been covering his face to push his hair back off his forehead.   
“You. You’re beautiful.” 

Louis shook his head, reaching between Harry’s legs with his wet fingers. 

“I want to see you,” he said. “While I’m doing this.” 

Harry nodded, his eyes wide. “Please.” 

Louis brushed his hand over Harry’s hole, his fingers slippery with the lube. 

“Is this ok?” 

Harry’s eyes were tightly shut. “Yeah. Fuck. Yeah, Lou.” 

Louis looked down at his hand as his index finger pressed inside Harry. His heart was racing and his stomach was clenching with want. 

“So good, Lou,” Harry groaned. 

Louis felt Harry relax around his finger. His finger that was inside Harry. He was inside Harry. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, giving his dick a few quick pulls. 

“Do you want to come on me?” Harry said, through gritted teeth. 

Louis curled over himself, pressing his head to Harry’s hip. “No. I…” 

He shifted back down the bed, watching his finger move inside Harry. He pulled it half out and then back in, along with his middle finger. 

Harry moaned, arching his back up off the bed. 

“Fuck, Haz,” Louis said. “The sounds you make. I--” 

“What?” Harry said. “What do you want? Tell me, Lou. Anything.” 

Louis whimpered, his mouth pressed to Harry’s inner thigh. “I want to fuck you.” 

Harry laughed and Louis felt him clench around his fingers. “We can do that,” he said.   
“Fucking yeah we can do that.” 

Louis laughed then too, adding another finger to the first two and scissoring Harry open. 

“M’ready,” Harry said, reaching down to brush Louis’ hair away from his face. “Lou. Get up here. I’m ready.” 

Louis pulled his fingers out and wiped them on the sheet as he crawled up the bed, his legs either side of Harry. 

“You sure,” he said, once their faces were level. 

“Fuck yeah,” Harry said. “Come on. Get on with it.” 

Louis laughed. “So needy.” 

He reached for a condom as Harry grabbed his waist and slid his hands down his hips, squeezing the soft flesh. He stared down at his own dick as he rolled the condom on. Harry was wriggling underneath him and once the condom was on Louis looked at him and had to close his eyes. Harry was biting his lip, his eyes wide, strands of his hair stuck to his face with sweat. 

“You’re too fucking gorgeous,” Louis said. “I can’t look at you.” 

He felt Harry’s hands on his arms, pulling him down. He let himself be pulled and relaxed on top of Harry, his dick pressed between them. 

“I want you to look at me,” Harry said, his mouth close to Louis’ ear. “I want you to look at me while you fuck me.” 

Louis groaned, grinding against Harry. 

“I want you to look at me and see how much I love it, see how much I want you,” Harry said, his voice still low. 

“Christ,” Louis said, pushing himself up on his arms. “Who even are you?” 

Harry grinned and Louis dropped back down to kiss him, their lips rough, teeth crashing, tongues probing. Louis heard himself whimper as Harry bit down on his lip and said, “Come   
on, Lou, fuck. Fuck me,” into his mouth. 

“Okay,” Louis said, lifting himself up again. “Okay.” 

Harry went still, watching Louis. His long legs were still bent at the knees, Louis kneeling between them. 

“Lift up a bit for me, love,” Louis said, touching the top of Harry’s thighs. His stomach was   
fluttering with nerves. 

Harry pulled a pillow from behind his head and Louis helped slide it under his arse. 

“Okay?” Louis said, still looking down at Harry. His dick was hard, curved up on his belly, wetness leaking from the tip. Louis pressed his thumb to it and Harry’s hips jerked up. 

“Come ON, Lou!” he whined, grabbing Louis’ wrist. “Fuck me.” 

Louis groaned and held his dick in his hand, guiding it between Harry’s legs. His thighs trembled as he pressed inside and his head dropped down onto his chest, his breathing fast and shallow. 

“Feels so good, Lou,” Harry said, his fingers brushing Louis’ thighs. “Keep going.” 

Louis braced himself with his left hand on Harry’s hip and pushed all the way in. He dragged his eyes up Harry’s body, from the laurels to the butterfly to the birds and then to his face. Harry’s head was tipped back, his eyes squeezed closed, his mouth open. 

“Okay?” Louis said again. 

“Yeah,” Harry groaned, opening his eyes and looking directly at Louis. “So fucking good, Lou,   
fuck. Can you… Can you move?” 

Louis nodded, even though he wasn’t sure he could. He’d never felt anything like this before.   
He was inside Harry. He was fucking Harry. And he felt boneless. He’d never been so turned on in his life. 

“I just…” Louis said. “It feels so good and I don’t want to… I want to make it good for you.” 

“S’always good for me,” Harry said, fingers digging into Louis’ hips. “You turn me on so fucking much.” 

He reached for his dick. “Look how hard I am. For you.” 

“Fuck,” Louis groaned. “Don’t touch. Not yet.” 

He moved his hand from Harry’s hip and leaned over, hands either side of Harry’s torso. The angle was even better and he had to let his head drop down onto Harry’s sternum. 

“You okay?” Harry asked, rubbing his face against Louis’ hair. “Lou?” 

“Yeah,” Louis said, mouthing at Harry’s neck. “It’s just… a lot. It’s a lot.” 

“It feels so good,” Harry said. “But if you don’t start fucking me right now, I’m going to have to--” 

Louis’ hips jerked involuntarily and Harry groaned, tipping his head back and rolling his hips up. 

“Fuck. Ing. HELL,” Louis grunted out. He pulled back, feeling his dick slide partway out, and then pushed back in, curling his pelvis up. 

“Christ,” Harry said, grabbing Louis’ hips again. “Like that, Lou. Please. Please.” 

Louis shuddered, squeezing his eyes closed, and pulled out as far as he could, letting himself drop down on top of Harry as he pushed back in. He felt Harry clench around him and they both groaned. 

“Harry,” Louis murmured, kissing across Harry’s chest, swiping his tongue over the bird tattoos. “So fucking good.” 

“Don’t stop,” Harry said. 

Louis could feel Harry’s dick hard between their bodies, sliding against Louis’ belly as he moved. 

“Can you come like this?” Louis murmured. 

“Are you fucking joking?” Harry said, his voice cracking. “I’m so close.” 

Louis raised himself up on his hands and looked down at Harry. “Don’t come yet.” 

Harry shook his head, his eyes wide. “I won’t. Tell me… Tell me when you want me to come.” 

Louis shuddered, something like electricity fizzing at the base of his spine. “God, Harry.” He dropped down and licked into Harry’s mouth. Harry moaned against his lips. It had never been like this with Nick. It had never been like this with anyone. Louis hadn’t known it could be like this. He didn’t want to stop. 

“I’m close, Lou,” Harry said, dipping his head to bite against Louis’ jaw. “I’m gonna come. I need--” 

Louis stilled for a second, before curving his hips up again. “Okay,” he said, licking up the side of Harry’s neck. “You gonna come for me, love?” 

Harry cried out, his head lifting and then slamming back down against the pillow. “Oh fuck, Lou. Feels so good.” 

Louis kept moving, chasing his own orgasm. He dragged a hand down Harry’s smooth chest, brushing his thumb over Harry’s nipple, before dipping his head to suck it into this mouth. 

Harry went still, his hands squeezing Louis’ hips, and then he yelled out and Louis felt his hot come shooting between them. His belly slid against Harry’s as Harry whimpered under him, and then Louis was coming too. 

 

“Fuck,” Louis said, still sprawled flat on top of Harry. 

“Yeah,” Harry sighed, one hand carding through Louis’ hair. 

“That was…” Louis kissed the nearest bit of Harry’s skin. Shoulder? Neck? He wasn’t sure. He could taste salty sweat and he poked his tongue out and licked a little. 

Harry shuddered. “What are you doing to me?”   
Louis could hear the smile in his voice. 

“That was…” Louis started, wondering if he could say everything he wanted to say. 

Harry’s other hand stroked down his back, resting on the dip of his waist. 

“That was the best,” Louis said. 

Harry wiggled happily underneath him and Louis laughed, eyes still closed. 

“And I mean the best ever,” Louis said. “I don’t just mean for me. I think that was the best sex anyone’s ever had.” 

“Oh I don’t know,” Harry said. “I think we can do better.” 

“Is that a challenge?” Louis asked, turning his head to the side, his cheek resting on Harry’s shoulder. He pressed a kiss to the base of Harry’s throat. 

“It is what it is,” Harry said, dragging one finger across Louis’ tattoo. 

“Ugh,” Louis said, throwing one thigh over both of Harry’s. “You are the worst.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another mild panic attack here.

Louis was on his third cup of tea - not that he’d finished one yet, he kept throwing them out, cold, halfway down and making another - and he couldn’t stop thinking about Nick. He’d fucked Harry for the first time the night before and it had been amazing. Mind-blowing.   
Better than he’d ever had before, better than he’d imagined sex could ever be. But he was thinking about Nick. 

He gulped down the rest of the current mug of tea, even though it wasn’t exactly what you’d call hot, and picked up his phone, scrolling through until he got to Nick’s name. Muttering ‘fuck’ to himself, he scrolled back a little and tapped Niall’s name instead. That was much safer. Niall answered almost immediately. 

“Alright, lad?” 

“Not exactly,” Louis said. “You?” 

“Fuckin’ awful.” 

Louis walked through to the lounge and flopped down on the sofa. The sofa where Harry had given him the best blowjob of his life after their dinner together. And before Harry had given him the next best blowjob of his life on the stairs. Louis groaned. 

“Cowell won’t consider me coming out. He’s insisting on a beard. I fucked Harry last night. And now I can’t stop thinking about Nick.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Niall said. “I was just going to say I’ve got the shits from too much beer.” 

Louis laughed. “Well that’s no joke.” 

“Tell me about it,” Niall said. “My arse is singing like a canary. What are you going to do?” 

“About your arse?” Louis couldn’t resist saying, rubbing his free hand over his face. 

Niall snorted. “It’ll be right. It’s always recovered before. Dead loyal, my arse. I can take it anywhere. You’re not going to do the beard thing, right?” 

“I don’t want to. Obviously. But I don’t think I have a choice. I need to talk to Liam, but he was so fucking weak in front of Cowell and I just couldn’t--” 

“It’d be a hell of a step back, mate,” Niall said. “Have you called James?” 

“Left a message,” Louis said. “And I know. But contractually… I think they’ve got me by the bollocks.” 

“I mean…” Niall said - Louis heard a door slide open and pictured his friend out on the terrace, looking out over the ocean. “I mean, you’ve not got long left on your contract, right? You can keep them happy for - what? - a year? And then you’re free.” 

Louis nodded. “I know. But the thought of another year. And the album’s so... And Harry.” 

“Yeah,” Niall said. “Who you finally fucked. How was it?” 

“Nialler,” Louis said. “I couldn’t even find the words to do it justice.” 

“Draw me a picture and text it over then,” Niall said, laughing. “So it was good?” 

“It was…” Louis thought back to how it felt to be inside Harry. How his stomach clenched with nerves and arousal. And how his heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. “It was the best thing I’ve ever… I don’t even know…” 

“Christ, alright,” Niall said. “I’m delighted for you. So why are you thinking about Nick?” 

“Because…” Louis said, straightening his legs and pressing his heels against the arm of the sofa. “Because I think I was a fucking terrible boyfriend. And I don’t want to make the same mistakes again. And I think… I think I owe him an apology.” 

“Ah,” Niall said. “You gonna go and see him?” 

Louis groaned. “S’pose.” 

*

“Cool place,” Louis said, following Nick down the hallway with its wide wooden floors and recessed lighting. 

“Ah yeah,” Nick said, glancing back over his shoulder. “You never came here. I forgot.” 

Louis’ eyebrows flicked up involuntarily]. He knew full well Nick wouldn’t have forgotten that - he’d moaned about it all the time when they were together. 

“Where’s Pig?” Louis asked as the hallway opened up into an enormous open plan living/dining/kitchen area. 

Nick stopped, resting his hands on the back of a white sofa that faced another white sofa and a huge, wall-mounted, flatscreen TV. 

“Aimee’s taken her to the cottage,” Nick said, as if Louis knew Aimee. Or that she had a cottage. 

“Oh right,” Louis said, shuffling. He looked past Nick at the dining table with its multicoloured, mismatched chairs and then beyond, at the French doors running the width of the house. “This is a really fucking nice place, Nick.” 

Nick smiled quickly. “Yeah. I love it.” 

“It’s really… homey,” Louis said. “Very…” He bit at his lips. “You.” 

Nick quirked one eyebrow at him. “Tea?” 

“Please,” Louis said, walking past Nick and over to the French doors. There was a wrought iron table and chairs just outside the window and beyond that dozens of potted plants and trees. 

“Have you got a gardener?” Louis said. 

Nick was filling the kettle under the tap. “Nope. All me. I’ve got kind of into it. S’very zen.” 

Louis snorted. 

“Seriously,” Nick said. “I’ve changed.” 

He was joking, but he really had. He was blond for a start. Louis wasn’t exactly sure it suited him, but he had to admit he was rocking it. 

“I haven’t got any Yorkshire…” Nick said, opening a glossy black cupboard. 

“Anything’ll do,” Louis said. “As long as it’s proper tea and not that Earl Gray shite.” 

Nick scoffed. “So you haven’t changed then.” 

He took two teabags out of a canister on the counter and dropped them into two mugs. Cream-coloured mugs with slightly concave sides and each with red block writing on the side. One said ‘Beauty’, the other ‘Beast.’ 

Louis’ breath caught in his chest. “Fucking hell, Nick.” 

“What?” Nick said, turning. He looked genuinely surprised. 

“The mugs.” 

“Oh shit. Sorry. They were just the nearest. I didn’t mean anything.” 

Louis shook his head. He’d bought them as a joke: Beast for Nick, Beauty for himself.   
They’d always been at his flat, but when they’d split, Nick had taken them with him. 

“Seriously,” Nick said. “I wasn’t trying to be a dick.” 

“You never really had to try,” Louis couldn’t resist saying. 

Nick laughed loudly. “Yeah, ok. I’ll let you have that one, popstar.” 

Louis rolled his eyes. “Don’t call me that.” 

“You liked it sometimes,” Nick said, pouring the hot water into the mugs before   
turning and waggling his eyebrows at Louis. 

Louis remembered their first night together. Nick on his knees, looking up at Louis from under his stupid massive quiff, saying ‘Want me to suck you off, popstar?’ 

“Fuck off,” Louis said and Nick laughed again. 

 

“So to what do I owe the pleasure, etc.,” Nick said, once they were sitting down outside, their teas on the table in front of them. It wasn’t sunny - the sky was white - but it was humid and Nick had said his garden was his new favourite place and Louis had needed air, so. 

“I just…” Louis said, picking at a flake of paint on the edge of the table. “There’s some stuff I wanted to--” 

“You’re not dying, are you?” Nick said, picking up his tea and looking at Louis over the rim of the mug. 

Louis rolled his eyes. “Not that I know of.” 

“Have you given me an STD?” 

“For fuck’s sake. Okay.” He took a breath. “I’m just going to come out with it, yeah?” 

“Can’t wait,” Nick said and Louis remembered why he’d fallen for him. How he could act like he didn’t give a shit at the same time as being one of the nicest and most   
considerate people Louis had ever met. 

“I’ve met someone,” Louis blurted out. And then picked up his own tea. 

“And you want my blessing?” Nick said. 

“Fucking hell, Nick,” Louis said into his mug. “This is hard enough. Maybe you could stop--” 

“Sorry, sorry,” Nick said. “I’ll try. So you’ve met someone. Is this the first someone since…” He gestured at his own face. 

“Yeah,” Louis said. “And I think I’m in love with him.” 

“Yikes,” Nick said. 

Louis laughed. “I know.” 

“So… the problem?” 

“I want to come out. And I can’t. And I haven’t told him.” Louis curled his hands around the mug. 

“You haven’t told him you love him or that you want to come out?” 

“Both. I think. I haven’t told him I love him. I’ve told him I want to come out, but not that I can’t.” 

“And why can’t you?” 

Louis shook his head. “Contract. Cowell. I’ve got to get a beard.” 

“Hmm,” Nick said. 

“What does that mean?” Louis asked, looking across the table at him. 

“That means… you have to get a beard? Have to? That’s your only option?” 

“Oh come on, Nick,” Louis said, dipping his head and rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Okay,” Nick said. “Calm down. Tell me about the boy. How do you know he’s The One.” 

“I didn’t say he was The One, god.” 

“You still have to argue with everything I say. Good to know that hasn’t changed.” 

“Sorry,” Louis said. 

“Just…” Nick said. “You never even considered coming out when you were with me. As far as I know.” 

“No,” Louis said, looking down into his tea. “Sorry.” 

“The apologising’s new,” Nick said, smiling. “M’not sure I like it. So tell me. What’s different?” 

“He picked me up from the airport,” Louis said. 

“Right,” Nick said. “And?” 

“You never picked me up from the airport.” 

Nick smiled. “We weren’t allowed to be seen together, remember?” 

“I’m not meant to be seen with Harry either. But he did it anyway.” 

“And someone saw? Is that why the beard thing is on the table?” 

“Yeah,” Louis said. “But I don’t care about that. That’s not Harry’s fault. He missed   
me. And fuck knows I missed him. And then he picked me up from the airport.” 

“Have you been watching When Harry Met Sally?” Nick said. “‘You never pick me up from the airport anymore.’” 

“What?” Louis looked across the table at Nick. He’d always been random, but even for Nick, that was random. 

“There’s a bit in that - it’s how Sally knows her boyfriend’s not in love with her anymore. Something like that. Wait. I think it was take me to the airport. Anyway. Point stands.” 

“What point?” 

“It’s not that he picked you up from the airport.” 

“No,” Louis said. 

“You were never all in with me,” Nick said, his face serious. “But you are with him.” 

Louis looked down at his hands on the table. “I mean… we’ve only known each other a couple of weeks, but… I think so. Yeah.” 

“That’s good,” Nick said. “How’s the sex?” 

Louis laughed and dropped his head back. A gap had appeared in the clouds, blue sky, a shaft of sunlight on his face. 

“I haven’t let him…” He bit at his lips and tipped his head forward again, rolling his neck. “We haven’t--” 

“Fucked?” Nick said. “Seriously?” 

“I’ve fucked him,” Louis said. It felt wrong, talking about Harry like this. He and Harry were bedrooms and sofas and cars. And stairs. It was private. “But I haven’t been able to…” 

“Do you want to?” Nick said. “Does he want to? He’s not pressuring you, is he, because--” 

“Fucking hell, no. Harry would never. I just… I want to. I really do. But I can’t. It seems like… Fuck. I can’t even talk about it.” 

“Lou,” Nick said, his chin and his voice lowered. “I fucked you the very first night.” 

“Yeah.” He looked up at Nick and then back down at his fingers on the edge of the table. 

Nick was uncharacteristically quiet for a few moments. “Oh shit. Shit. Tell me it wasn’t your first time.” 

Louis laughed a little. Even though it wasn’t funny. “Second.” 

“Oh fucking hell, Lou! Why didn’t you say?” 

Louis shook his head. “It was fine. It was good. With you. It’s not like I didn’t want to.” 

“But we couldn’t taken things slower. I had no idea. Fuck. I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” 

“Yeah,” Nick said. “I do.” 

Louis smiled. “I mean about that. The first night. It was one of the most exciting nights of my life. And i wanted to. Seriously. I wouldn’t lie about that.” 

“But you never loved me,” Nick said. 

Louis jerked back in his chair. Nick had said it completely casually. No anger, no bitterness, just a statement of fact. 

“You knew,” Louis said. 

Nick smiled. “Yeah. Not at first. But… yeah.” 

“I’m sorry,” Louis said. 

“Fuck me, how many sorries is that now, popstar?” 

“Not enough,” Louis said. His chest felt tight. He wondered if it was too early for alcohol and knew he could ask Nick and Nick would give him some. But that probably wasn’t a good idea. 

“How about I’ve said sorry and you’ve said sorry,” Nick said. “We’re both sorry. We were a bit good together and a bit not so good together and now maybe we can be friends.” 

“That…” Louis stared at Nick. At his stupid blond hair and his big mouth and his perfect eyebrows. “That sounds good.” 

“You think your boy would be okay with it?” 

“His name’s Harry. And no, I think he’ll be jealous as hell. But that’s ok. He’s hot when he’s jealous.” 

Nick grinned. “Cool. So what are you going to do?” 

Louis groaned. “I don’t know.” 

“Yeah,” Nick said, finishing his tea and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You do.” 

Louis stared at one of the pot plants. It had spiky leaves with tiny pink flowers on the end. “Can I play you my album?” Louis said, suddenly.   
“If you like,” Nick said. “I’ll make another brew.” 

 

“It’s shit, yeah?” Louis said once they’d listened to all ten tracks. 

They’d moved inside - Louis curled up in the corner of one sofa, trainers off, a cushion on his lap; Nick on the other, lying flat out, his hands behind his head. 

“I mean…” Nick said. “It’s not good.” 

“What am I going to do?” 

“You know what you need to do,” Nick said. His eyes were closed and he looked totally chilled. Louis wanted to throw a cushion at him. 

“This Yoda act is really fucking annoying,” Louis said. 

Nick laughed so hard he almost fell off the sofa. 

*

Louis could smell Nick on his t-shirt. Bloody massive Nick and his enveloping hugs and too much aftershave. Louis tugged his clothes off and dropped them in the laundry basket before heading across his bedroom to the en suite, scratching idly at his belly. It had been good to see Nick. And good to know that he didn’t feel anything for him anymore. No. That wasn’t true. He was sort of… fond of him. 

Louis turned on the water and stepped into the shower. He never would have thought he could be fond of Nick, could be considering the two of them actually being friends. He’d wanted him and wanted him and then he’d got him and stopped wanting him. And then he’d just resented him. But seeing him had reminded Louis why he’d liked him in the first place. Maybe they could be friends. And if Harry was driven mad with lust every time Louis saw Nick, well, that was ok too. 

Louis felt his cock twitch at the thought of it. He’d rung Harry from the car on the way home. Harry was at work, busy, distracted, but he was going to come straight over after his shift. Louis had thought about maybe cooking, but decided that was an idiotic idea. They could fuck and then get a takeaway. Maybe watch a film. And maybe Louis would tell him   
about the meeting. 

Back in his bedroom, a towel fastened round his waist, another draped over his shoulders, he checked his phone and found missed calls from James and Liam. He stared at the names, unable to decide which one to call first, and decide they could both wait til the following day. He didn’t want to think about any of it anymore. He just wanted to think about Harry. He looked at the clock. He should be finishing any time now. 

*

“You saw Nick?” Harry said, he was leaning back against the kitchen island as Louis opened beers for them both. 

“Yeah,” Louis said, glancing over his shoulder. “I needed to talk through a few things. About the way we left it and… stuff.” 

“Right,” Harry said, his voice low. “And was it, um, useful.”   
Louis bit back a smile. “It was actually. I think maybe we could be friends. Never thought I’d say that.” He leaned back against the counter, holding a beer out to Harry. 

Harry took it, his huge hand wrapping around it easily. Louis could see a muscle flickering in his jaw. 

“Are you pissed off?” Louis said. “You don’t need to be. There’s nothing--” 

Harry shook his head. “I’m not pissed off. I just... don’t like him.” 

“You like everyone,” Louis said, walking out of the kitchen and through to the lounge, before dropping down on the end of the sofa. 

“I don’t like him,” Harry said, following Louis and sitting at the other end of the sofa. He ran a hand back through his hair, shaking it down into his face. “I don’t think he was nice to you.” 

Louis smiled. “I wasn’t nice to him either.” 

Harry shook his head. “I don’t believe that.” 

“Haz,” Louis said, stretching one leg out and nudging Harry’s thigh with his bare foot. “It’s fine. Me and him are fine now. You really don’t need to hate him. Actually, I think you’d probably get on well. You’ve got a lot--” 

“Did he touch you?” 

“What?” Louis said. “No. He… I mean, he hugged me when I left.” 

Harry shook his head, his hair hanging down. Louis could see his fingers tightening and releasing on his thigh. 

“You’re jealous,” Louis said. 

“Fuck yeah I am,” Harry said, glancing up at Louis. “He’s famous. And hot. Like you.   
And I’m not...” 

“Not what?” Louis said, genuinely confused. 

“Famous.” 

“As if I give a shit about that. And you’re hot enough to make up for it anyway.” He grinned. 

Harry sat back and looked over at him. His cheeks were pink and his eyes were flashing.   
Louis’ breathing sped up. 

“He hugged me when I got there too,” he said, even though it wasn’t true. Nick had only sort of clapped him on the shoulder. 

Harry groaned and threw himself across the sofa and on top of Louis, knocking him backwards onto the cushions. Louis laughed as Harry bit his collarbone. 

“You are so fucking hot when you’re jealous,” he said into Harry’s hair. 

“S’not funny,” Harry said, grinding his hips hard against Louis’. 

“I’m not laughing,” Louis said. He tangled his fingers into Harry’s hair and pulled. Harry whimpered and ground down again. 

“He touched my hand,” Louis said, moving his own hips up against Harry’s. “My thumb.” 

“Why did he touch your fucking thumb?” Harry said, his hand sliding down Louis’ arm, his fingers hooking around Louis’ fingers. 

“I can’t remember exactly,” Louis said. “It was sort of a handshake. He’s very physically affectionate.” 

“Fuck OFF,” Harry said, pulling Louis’ hand up to his mouth. Louis felt Harry’s teeth on the soft base of his thumb and then Harry sucked his thumb right into his mouth. 

“Jesus Christ!” Louis said, pulling his legs up to hook around Harry’s thighs. “Christ, Harry, your mouth. That feels--” 

Harry pulled his lips off Louis’ thumb with an audible pop and licked into Louis’ mouth, his hips moving faster against Louis’. 

“Upstairs,” Louis groaned. 

“I want to fuck you,” Harry said, dropping his head down to Louis’ shoulder. “Let me fuck you, Lou.” 

“Yeah,” Louis said, scrabbling his feet up the sofa and pushing at Harry’s shoulders. “Yeah, I want that.” 

“Yeah?” Harry said. He was holding himself up on his arms, looking down at Louis, his eyes bright, long hair falling down around his face. 

“Yeah,” Louis said. 

 

Harry pushed Louis back on the bed and stood between his legs. “How do you want to do this?” 

“Fuck,” Louis said. His stomach tensed with nerves. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do it without telling Harry. 

“Wait,” Louis said, pushing himself back up the bed towards the pillows. 

“I can’t wait,” Harry said, kneeling at the foot of the bed and crawling after Louis. “I want you so much.” He pressed his hand against the front of his black jeans and Louis’ mouth went dry. 

“I don’t think…” Louis rubbed both hands over his face as Harry crawled up his body, knees either side of Louis’ thighs. “I don’t think I can. We need to talk--” 

“Fuck,” Harry said, dropping down to the bed next to Louis. “Don’t… Is this about Nick?” 

“What?” Louis sat up, reaching for Harry. “No! Fuck, god, no. It’s about me. The meeting. Something happened and I--” 

“You’re not…” Harry glanced over, his cheeks flushed. “I mean, you still want to…” He shook his head. 

“You?” Louis said. “I still want you? Fucking yeah I still want you. I always want you. It’s kind of a problem. My concentration’s screwed.” 

Harry turned his head and smiled quickly. “Same.” 

Louis took a breath. “It’s just… it’s not good. I hate that I have to do it and I hate that I have to tell you about it and I don’t know how you’re going to react and I just--” 

Harry wrapped his hand around Louis’ ankle and squeezed gently. “Just tell me.” 

Louis nodded. “Ok. They have photos. Of us. Me and you.” 

Harry winced. “At the airport?” 

“Yeah. And other places. At Ed’s gig. In the street.” 

“Fuck,” Harry pushed a hand back through his hair. “I’m so sorry. I never should’ve come to the airport. I didn’t think anyone would--” 

Louis shook his head. “Don’t. I’m glad you came. I loved that you came. It’s just… I’ve got a contract. And it has a morals clause. And they own image rights.” 

“What does that mean?” Harry asked. He shuffled so he was facing Louis and pulled   
his legs up to sit cross-legged. 

Louis brushed his thumb over the rip in the knee of Harry’s jeans. “It means that if they don’t want me to be gay - and they don’t - then I’m not gay.” 

Harry blinked at him. “So… how does that work.” 

“They want me to get a girlfriend.” 

Louis watched Harry’s chest rise and fall and then looked back at his face. Harry was staring back, his eyes wide. “A beard? They said that?” 

Louis nodded. “I can find one myself or they’ll find one for me. Simon suggested Ariana Grande.” 

Harry shook his head, the frown line between his eyebrows prominent. “They can’t fucking do that.” 

“They can,” Louis said. “I’m sorry.” 

“So… what? I’d be, like, your dirty little secret? And you get photographed at events with some random girl?” 

Louis’ stomach churned. “You would never be a dirty little secret to me. But yeah, for work stuff I’d have a girlfriend. Not just at events. I’d have to be seen out with her a bit too.” 

“I don’t…” He closed his eyes. “I can’t believe they can make you do this.” 

“Me neither. But they can. I just… I want you to know that I would never choose this.   
If it was up to me… I mean, I want to come out.” 

“Did you tell them that?” Harry asked, his voice smaller than Louis had ever heard it. 

Louis pulled Harry’s hand away from his face and brushed his thumb over the palm. “Yeah. They laughed. Well, Cowell did.” He turned Harry’s hand over in his. Harry’s long fingers, neat nails, all his fucking rings. “There’s only a year left on my contract and then--” 

“A year?” Harry jerked backwards, pulling his hand out of Louis’. Louis reached for it instinctively, but Harry had wrapped his arms around himself. 

“I know,” Louis said. “I know. It’s fucking terrible. I understand if you don’t want to…” His breath caught in his chest and he couldn’t even finish the sentence. 

“Don’t want to what?” Harry said. 

Louis swallowed. His chest felt tight. He thought back to the panic attack outside the studio and tried to calm his breathing, but he was starting to see spots in front of his eyes. He put one hand on Harry’s knee, his fingers digging in. 

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” He hooked his fingers under Louis’ and grabbed his hand. 

Louis shook his head. “I’m okay.” 

“Fuck, you’ve gone white.” 

Louis closed his eyes and felt Harry move around him on the bed. And then Harry’s arms were wrapping around him and he was being gently pulled backwards. He relaxed back against Harry’s chest, Harry’s arms wrapping around him, one hand still holding Louis’, the other resting on Louis’ stomach. 

“Is this okay?” Harry said into his hair. “Are you okay? I’m sorry I got pissed off.” 

Louis tried to laugh, but no sound came out. He counted his breaths, rubbing his head against Harry’s chest like a cat. He counted his breaths, he focussed on the feeling of Harry’s hand on his belly, he felt Harry’s breath moving his hair. 

“It’s fine,” Harry said, once Louis’ breathing had slowed. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not your fault. I know you wouldn’t do this if you didn’t have to.” 

“I wouldn’t,” Louis said. “I totally want to be able to ravish you in public places.” 

Harry laughed. “I would like that.” 

Louis turned his head to look up at Harry. “Thank you.” 

Harry looked down at him. He still looked worried, his eyes concerned, cheeks pink,   
teeth tugging at his bottom lip. He was beautiful. “What for?” 

“For understanding. For calming me down. For being so fucking gorgeous I can   
hardly stand it.” 

“Is that right?” He dipped his head and kissed Louis’ neck. 

“So fucking gorgeous,” Louis repeated, shifting out of Harry’s arms so Harry could reach his lips. He moaned as Harry licked into his mouth. The way he tasted. He’d never known anything like it. 

“Take your clothes off,” Harry said against his mouth. 

 

Harry kissed down Louis’ shoulders. Louis felt his mouth on his ribs, his waist, the curve of his arse. He felt his hips curl up without him even intending to move, but then he felt one of Harry’s huge hands on his left hip, holding him down. He shuddered into the mattress, pressing his face into the pillow. Harry was still moving, still kissing. Down the back of Louis’ right thigh, his left knee. Harry’s right hand smoothing Louis’ calf as his mouth moved to Louis’ ankle and Louis felt his toes curl. Harry’s tongue on the prominent bone on the inside of his ankle. And then his lips on the outside. 

Harry spoke, but his voice was husky and Louis couldn’t hear. He pushed himself up on his elbows. 

“What did you say?” 

“I love your ankles,” Harry repeated. And then Louis felt Harry’s teeth, gently on the back part, whatever the fuck that was called. Louis pointed his foot and felt his toes graze Harry’s skin. His throat, maybe. His jaw. 

“Can I…” Harry started, his voice still low. “There’s something I want to try…” 

“Yeah,” Louis said, dropping his head back down to the pillow. “Anything.” 

He felt Harry lifting both of Louis’ feet, bending Louis’ legs at the knees. Harry shifted on the bed and Louis felt him move between them. Then Harry’s breath hitched as he slid his dick between Louis’ feet. 

“Fuck,” Louis said, pressing his face into the pillow. What the fuck. 

“I once,” Harry said, one hand wrapped around Louis shin, the other holding his right foot.   
“I once jerked off to a photo of your ankles.” 

Louis’s laugh was muffled by the pillow. He pushed himself up as far as he could and tried   
to turn to look at Harry, but all he could see was the shape of him, moving slowly in the grey half-light. 

“Yeah,” Harry said. “You’d been to an award ceremony. The Brits maybe? You were wearing a black suit and you had the cuffs rolled up. Grey suede shoes. And you looked…” His breath hitched again and his fingers tightened on Louis’ leg, his dick bumping against the knots of bone between Louis’ ankles. “You looked so fucking gorgeous. But I couldn’t stop staring at your ankles. And thinking about how I wanted to lick them.” 

Louis twitched against the mattress, trying to get some sort of friction on his too-hard dick. He’d never thought of his ankles as an erogenous zone before, but the feeling of Harry’s cock - soft skin sliding over his hardness - was driving him crazy. 

“And then I saw the tattoo,” Harry said. “The triangle.” Louis felt Harry’s thumb pressing against it. “And I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About how you had this symbol. 

Somewhere most people wouldn’t see. But how you’d gone to this thing looking so fucking perfect, but with no socks. So it was showing. And I didn’t know you, but I felt so fucking proud of you. And I stopped thinking about fucking your ankles and started thinking about making love to you.” 

“Harry,” Louis said, but it came out as a sob. 

“Shit,” Harry said. He let go of Louis’ legs and draped himself down over Louis’ back, holding himself up on his elbows either side of Louis’ body. “I’m sorry,” he said, his lips against the back of Louis’ neck. “I didn’t mean to--” 

“No,” Louis said, reaching back to touch this incredible boy. This incredible boy who knew him - fucking knew him - before they’d ever met. “Can you…” Louis wriggled his hips. “Can you move? I just need to…” 

Harry rolled to the side, and when Louis rolled onto his own side Harry’s face was right there. He looked worried. Almost scared. His eyes were dark and wide, his cheeks pink. 

“I’m so in love with you,” Louis said.


	15. Chapter 15

PART THREE: FLYING

“Say that again,” Harry said. 

“What?” Louis said. His face was so close to Harry’s he couldn’t properly see his reaction. He tried to pull back, but Harry’s hand was curved around the back of his head. 

“Say it again,” Harry said, his voice low. 

“Harry, I--” 

“Say,” Harry said and kissed the corner of Louis’ mouth. “It.” He sucked gently on his bottom lip. “Again.” 

Louis blew out a breath. “I’m in love with you. I love you. I know it hasn’t been very long, but--” 

Harry rolled Louis onto his back and lay his full weight on top of him, pressing his face into the curve between Louis’ neck and shoulder. Louis felt his lips on his skin and then Harry lurched up over him again. He was smiling so widely that Louis smiled back automatically, butterflies starting to flutter in his belly. Harry pressed his lips to Louis’ quickly, before pulling back again. 

“I’m in love with you too,” Harry said. 

“Fuck,” Louis breathed. “Say it again.” 

Harry barked out one of his sharp laughs. “I’m in love with you too. Lou.” 

Louis ran one hand up Harry’s back over his shoulder. He tightened it briefly on the back of his neck and then stroked his thumb along Harry’s jaw, his lips, his cheekbone. 

“I thought it was too soon to say,” Harry said, poking his tongue out to lick at Louis’ thumb. “Thought you’d be freaked out.” 

“I am a bit freaked out,” Louis said, stroking his fingers down Harry’s throat, feeling a hint of stubble, touching gently into the hollow at the base. “But it feels right, yeah?” 

“It’s felt right since the start,” Harry said. 

Louis nodded, swallowing hard. “It has. I’ve never… I’ve never felt like this before.”

Harry’s green eyes went wide. “Not with Nick?” 

Louis shook his head. “No. I thought I was in love with him. I told myself I was. I told him I was. But I never felt like this. I’ve never felt anything like this.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Harry said, dropping his entire weight onto Louis, his mouth pressing   
down hard, sucking Louis’ bottom lip into his mouth. 

Louis groaned, hitching his hips up under Harry’s, his half-hard dick heavy along his thigh. 

“I love you,” Harry said against his mouth. 

Louis laughed. “I love you too.” 

Harry pushed himself up on his arms. “Say it again.” 

Louis laughed and shook his head. “I’ll say it again after you’ve fucked me.” 

Harry’s eyes went dark and he groaned, dropping down to kiss Louis again,   
spreading his legs either side of Louis’ thighs. “How do you want to do it?” 

Louis lifted his head so he could kiss the side of Harry’s neck. “I think on my front? It’s been a while.” 

“Fuck,” Harry breathed. “Yeah. Okay. Yeah. Where--” 

“Bedside drawer,” Louis said. He started to roll over then stopped and pulled Harry down towards him again, kissing him slowly, their tongues tangling and sliding together. 

Harry moved his hips in a figure of eight and Louis groaned against his mouth. “Okay. Okay.” 

He pushed at Harry’s chest and Harry, grinning, rolled off him and sat up, sliding open the drawer. 

Louis rolled onto his front and pushed his face into the pillow. It smelled like Harry. His pillows always smelled like Harry now. And his sheets. And his clothes. He loved it. He heard the snick of the lube bottle cap and felt himself tensing up. But then Harry’s hand was on the small of his back, smoothing over his skin and he relaxed. 

“Look so good like this, Lou,” Harry murmured. 

Louis shivered. 

“Are you cold?” Harry said. Louis felt the mattress move as Harry changed position. 

“No,” Louis said. “I’m good. I just… want you.” He pressed his face into the pillow again. This was really happening. 

He felt Harry’s hands on his thighs pushing them apart and for a second he wished it was dark, didn’t want Harry to see him, but then Harry’s lips were hot at the base of his spine and he arched up off the bed, his arse pressing against Harry’s chest. 

“Fuck, Lou,” Harry said against his skin. “I’m not going to last if you’re moving like that. Your fucking arse.” 

Louis laughed, turning his face, his cheek on the pillow. “Come on, H. Get in it.” 

Harry laughed then and Louis felt him sit up and then his hands were on Louis’s arse, stroking and kneading, and then one finger was sliding down and pressing softly against his hole. 

Louis heard himself whimper and bit his bottom lip, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“This okay?” Harry said and he already sounded wrecked. 

Louis pushed down against the mattress, trying to get some friction on his cock, and then back up towards Harry. Harry’s hand. 

Harry groaned again and then his finger was inside and Louis wanted to push up on his hands and knees, press back into Harry’s hands, have all of Harry inside him and around him and all over him. 

“More,” he gasped. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Harry said, his other hand steadying Louis’ hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh there. 

“I’m good,” Louis said. “Please, Harry.” 

Harry groaned then and Louis felt a second finger pressing inside alongside the first. He hissed, pushing one hand down between his body and the bed to curl loosely around his hard cock. 

“Don’t come yet,” Harry said. 

“I won’t,” Louis said. “Want to come with you inside me.” 

Harry whimpered and Louis gripped the base of his own cock, mouth opening, eyes closing. 

“Fuck, Lou,” Harry said. “I want that. I want that.” 

“Another,” Louis said. “Harry, I’m good.” 

Louis couldn’t keep his hips still, wanted to press back against Harry, waiting for Harry to find the spot that he knew would wreck him. Harry’s fingers were pressing and curling and Louis listened to the sounds Harry was making and the sounds his fingers were making inside Louis. Fuck, Harry’s fingers were inside him. He clenched and Harry moaned and Louis arched up, pressing his forehead down into the pillow. 

“Fuck,” Harry moaned. “Fuck, Lou. You look so fucking good. I can’t even--” 

“Harry,” Louis said - he could feel sweat running down his back. “Harry, come on.” 

“Okay. Okay. Hang on, I just…” 

Louis felt Harry moving down the bed and he braced himself for the sensation of Harry pulling his fingers out, but instead there was Harry’s tongue licking around and between his fingers, around and inside Louis’ hole and Louis heard himself yell out, felt his body moving involuntarily, heard Harry whimpering. He had no idea how he wasn’t coming already. 

And then Harry was pulling back and out, his hands on Louis’ hips, his dick lining up to   
Louis’ hole and Louis was sucking his stomach in, arching his back, hands bunching the sheets, toes curling as Harry pressed inside him. 

“Oh my god,” Louis mumbled. “Oh my god.” 

He could hear Harry’s shallow breathing. “You okay?” Harry said. “This okay?” 

“So good, Haz,” Louis said pushing up on his elbows. “Keep going.” 

They both moaned as Harry bottomed out and for a couple of seconds they were both still, getting used to the sensation. And then Louis’ belly was curling again, his thighs flexing as he pushed his arse back against Harry and grunted out “Fuck. Me.” 

Harry pulled back slowly. Too slowly. And then pushed back in so fast that Louis shifted slightly up the bed. He yelled out again, reaching one arm back to try to touch Harry, but the angle was wrong. 

“Hang on,” Harry said. “Just… in a minute… Just let me…” 

He pulled out and back in again and Louis’ flinched as his oversensitive dick brushed against the sheet. 

“Fuck, Lou,” Harry said. “I can’t believe… you’re so…” 

Harry reached one hand around underneath and pressed it against Louis’ lower stomach and Louis felt everything go black. 

“I can’t…” he muttered into the pillow. “Haz, I can’t…” 

“Don’t come yet,” Harry murmured, lowering himself down over Louis, one arm braced against the bed so he wasn’t dropping his whole weight. He pulled back a little and once he pressed back in, hit Louis’ prostate and Louis yelled out again. 

“Can’t believe I get to do this,” Harry said, his lips between Louis’ shoulder blades, hips moving shallowly. “I love you so fucking much.” 

Louis felt his orgasm building from his toes, the heat rushing up his body until he came with a shout, feeling himself clenching around Harry as his own come shot up his chest and stars burst behind his eyes. And then Harry went still and let out a deep groan, pressing deeper   
into Louis who was already boneless on the bed. 

“Fuck,” Harry murmured against Louis’ neck. “Fuck.” 

“I love you,” Louis said, pressed entirely into the bed by Harry’s body. “I love you so much.”


	16. Chapter 16

Louis was woken by the smell of bacon. 

He smiled to himself, pressing his face into the pillow and stretching his legs down the bed. Harry. Harry was making him breakfast. He was in love with Harry and Harry was in love with him and he was making him breakfast. He rolled onto his back and grinned up at the ceiling. 

His phone buzzed on the bedside table and he reached for it, hoping it was Niall. Although if it was Niall he wouldn’t be able to resist telling him he and Harry had fucked and Niall would take the piss. So he would have been relieved when it wasn’t Niall. Except it was Liam. 

“Hey,” he said into the phone, shuffling up to lean back against the headboard. 

“Hiya, mate,” Liam said and Louis was hit with a rush of affection so sudden that he had to close his eyes. Liam had been his best mate once. What had gone wrong? 

“Are you free for lunch today?” Liam said. 

“I don’t…” Louis started, rubbing his stubbly chin with his hand. “I don’t know if that’s--” 

“Listen,” Liam said. “I know you’re pissed off with me. I don’t blame you. I know I’ve fucked up. But I want to sort it out. I want to help you do what you want to do.” 

Louis leaned forward, pressing the phone more firmly against his ear. “To come out? You’re going to help me come out?” 

“Maybe. I think… I’m not sure yet exactly. I talked to James Corden and--” 

“You talked to James?” Louis said, incredulously. “How did you even--” 

“I was talking to him about something else and he mentioned you and… He didn’t break any confidences or anything, Lou, he just… he set me straight on a few things.” 

“Ironic,” Louis said, half-smiling. 

Liam laughed. “I want to help, Lou. Seriously. I want to fix things.” 

“What time?” Louis said, swinging his legs off the side of the bed. 

“What?” 

“Lunch. What time? Bearing in mind that I’m only just getting up now and I’ve no fucking idea what time it is.” 

“I’m mostly free today,” Liam said. “Give me a ring when you get hungry.” 

Louis laughed. “Right. Yeah, okay, I can do that.” 

 

Louis peed and showered quickly before heading downstairs still mostly damp. He smiled to himself as he heard Harry in the kitchen shouting answers out to some quiz show on the radio. Harry in his kitchen, cooking him breakfast and listening to the radio. His stomach fluttered and he rolled his eyes at himself. He was pathetic. 

“Morning!” he called as he walked into the kitchen. And then he sucked in a breath when he saw Harry. He was just wearing tiny black briefs, partly caught up so half of one arse cheek was sticking out. He was barefoot and he’d pulled his hair up into a bun, a few tendrils hanging down between his shoulder blades. His back looked wide and strong, muscles moving as he did something… what was he doing? 

“The Doobie Brothers!” Harry yelled. Presumably at the radio. 

“What are you doing?” Louis said, laughing. 

“Whisking eggs,” Harry said, glancing over his shoulder at Louis. “I’m making French   
Toast.” 

“They call that ‘eggy bread’ where I come from,” Louis said, pressing himself up against Harry’s back, nuzzling his face into his neck. 

“Get away from me,” Harry said, lightly. “I’m literally slaving over a hot stove.” 

Louis rubbed his face between Harry’s shoulder blades, he smelled delicious. He hooked one finger into the waistband of Harry’s briefs. “Can’t it wait.” 

“No, it can’t,” Harry said, turning slightly and hip-checking Louis. “The pan’s already hot.” 

“You’re hot,” Louis said, grazing Harry’s neck with his teeth. 

Harry laughed. “Go and sit down. Or make yourself useful and put the kettle on.” 

“I can do that,” Louis said, pulling the waistband away from Harry’s body and letting it snap back. “Or I could just blow you.” 

“You can blow me after,” Harry said. “Make tea.” 

“God, you’re bossy when you’re cooking,” Louis said, kissing the back of Harry’s neck. “I’m into it.” 

He crossed the kitchen and filled the kettle before taking two mugs down from the cupboard and dropping a teabag in each. While he made the tea, Harry carried on shouting the answers at the radio and Louis even got a couple right, rushing across the kitchen at one point to high five Harry when they both shouted the answer at the same time. 

“Go and sit down,” Harry said again, a couple of minutes later. 

Louis sat at the central island and watched Harry transfer bacon, sausage and French Toast/eggy bread to two plates, before carrying them over and putting one down in front of Louis. 

“This looks amazing,” Louis said. “You’re amazing.” 

“It’s only breakfast, Lou,” Harry said, but he ducked his head, his hair falling down over his eyes. 

Louis hopped down from his stool and rounded the island. Harry half-turned to face him and Louis stepped between his thighs, resting his hands on his hips. 

“Thank you,” Louis said. 

“It’s not that big a deal,” Harry said, smiling. 

Louis leaned forward and kissed Harry’s collarbone. “It is to me.” 

Harry dropped his head back briefly and Louis watched his stomach muscles twitch. “Well then you’re welcome,” Harry said. 

“No one’s ever cooked me breakfast before,” Louis said, pressing his lips to the hollow just under Harry’s ear. 

“Nick didn’t--” 

“You want to talk about Nick now?” Louis said, pressing closer. He could feel Harry’s dick firming up against his belly. 

“No,” Harry said, but it was almost a sigh. 

“I’m going to blow you now, okay?” Louis said. 

“No,” Harry said again, more clearly this time. “I want… I want you to do the thing you told me you’d fantasised about.” 

Louis frowned. “What thing?” 

Harry shifted his hips forward on the stool, his dick pressing harder into Louis’ belly, his hands coming round to rest on Louis’ arse. Louis curled his hips up and sucked Harry’s earlobe into his mouth. 

“You bent me over the island--” 

“Oh!” Louis said. “That thing.” He licked up the side of Harry’s neck. “You need to get down off the stool then, love.” 

Harry scrambled off the stool so quickly that he knocked Louis off-balance and Louis had to grab the island to keep himself upright. 

“Keen,” Louis said. 

“I’ve thought about it,” Harry said, his cheeks pink as he rested his arms on the island and arched his back. “Since you mentioned it. I’ve thought about it a lot.” 

“Fuck,” Louis said, his hands on Harry’s hips, pulling him back towards him. “You look so good like this.” 

“Have you got stuff?” Harry said, over his shoulder. 

Louis laughed. “In the kitchen? I’m not an animal. Hang on.” 

He dropped a kiss to the small of Harry’s back and ran up the stairs, yanking open the bedside drawer and grabbing condoms, lube and baby wipes. When he got back to the kitchen, Harry was exactly where he’d left him: bent over the central island, head tipped back, hair falling down between his shoulder blades, legs long and strong, bum small and tight and-- 

“Fuck,” Louis said. 

“Please,” Harry said, wiggling his bum. 

“Jesus Christ.” Louis said the stuff down on the counter next to Harry and hooked two fingers into the waistband of his briefs, tugging them down. 

Harry hissed and sucked his stomach in, arching his back further as Louis slowly pulled the pants down his legs. 

“Lou,” Harry said, dropping his head down onto his arms. “My tea’s going cold.” 

Louis laughed again and dropped the pants to the floor, reaching around to take hold of   
Harry’s hard cock. 

“Not yet,” Harry said, jerking his hips. “You’re still dressed.” 

“Shit.” Louis had been so focussed on Harry, he hadn’t even realised. He yanked off his hoodie and pushed down his joggers and pants in one go. He was already hard - felt like he’d been hard since he’d first seen Harry in his tiny pants in his kitchen. He ran a hand over himself quickly and then picked up the lube. 

“I already prepped a bit,” Harry said. 

Louis groaned. “When?” 

“When I got up. And just then when you went upstairs.” 

“I can’t’ve been gone more than a minute,” Louis said, picking up the lube and squeezing some over his fingers. 

“I’m just saying you can get on with it,” Harry said. “I’ve cooked.” 

Louis slid a finger down between Harry’s cheeks and pressed into him. Harry gasped and pushed back against Louis’s hand. “More.” 

“Fuck,” Louis said again, adding another finger. Harry was right, it wasn’t going to take much. Harry moaned - pushing back against Louis, wiggling his hips - as Louis tried to take his time opening him up. 

“Lou,” Harry grunted out after what can’t even have been a minute. “Fuck me. I’m ready.” 

Louis leaned forward and dropped a kiss to the small of Harry’s back, letting his tongue stretch out and run along his skin. 

“Stop licking me,” Harry said. 

Louis laughed, pressing his forehead against Harry’s skin. “I love the way you taste.” 

Harry groaned again and Louis reached down to wrap his fingers around his hard dick. “You’re ready?” Louis said. “You’re sure?” 

“I’ve been telling you,” Harry said, lifting up on his toes. “Come on!” 

“Shit, okay,” Louis said. He wrapped his arm around Harry’s waist, pressing his palm flat against his belly and used his other hand to guide himself inside. Harry stayed completely still, but Louis could feel his breath quicken under his hand. 

“This okay?” Louis managed to grunt out. 

“Yeah,” Harry said, his voice low. “S’good.” 

“Can I move?” Louis asked, even though he was already moving, sliding his arm back so he could hold Harry by the hips, his fingers pressing into the soft flesh there. 

“Yeah,” Harry said, pushing back again. “Please.” 

Louis started to pull back, but stopped as Harry said, “Lou?” 

“Yeah?” He looked at Harry’s hair falling down his back, at the muscles in his shoulders, the shape of his waist, and had to catch his breath. 

“Hard, yeah? Like you said.” 

“Fuck,” Louis groaned. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” 

Gripping Harry’s hips, he pulled back as far as he could and slammed back in, squeezing his eyes shut and feeling heat already starting to build in his belly. 

Harry groaned, arching his back and tipping his head back so his hair fell further towards Louis’ hands. Without even thinking, Louis took one hand away from Harry’s hip and tangled it in his hair, sliding the elastic out and pulling Harry’s head back even further.   
Harry let out a sound Louis had never heard him make before and he had to stop and bite his lip or he wasn’t going to last. 

“Fucking hell, Haz.” 

“I like that,” Harry said. 

“Yeah. I got that.” He wrapped Harry’s hair tighter around his fist and pulled as he pressed hard inside him. 

He could see Harry’s arm moving where he was jerking himself and Louis went up on tiptoes so he could press his mouth against Harry’s back and shoulders. 

“You have to bite me,” Harry whined. “I’m close. You have to--” 

“I’m close too,” Louis said, dragging his teeth along Harry’s shoulder blade. “You feel so good. I can’t believe I--” 

“Ah!” Harry gasped, going up on tiptoes himself and then dropping back down. “I can’t, Lou - don’t talk, I’ll come if you--” 

Louis yanked his hand out of Harry’s hair and wrapped it around him again, pressing it flat against his chest. He laid his own chest over Harry’s back as he moved his hips, pressing deeper inside Harry. Harry was whimpering, his hand moving faster and Louis felt something like electricity running up the backs of his legs as he sunk his teeth into Harry’s shoulder, coming hard. Harry yelled out as he came too and Louis pressed even closer, feeling Harry’s heart racing under his palm. 

*

Louis was surprised to see Liam was sitting outside the pub. He was wearing a snapback and staring at his phone. He looked up as Louis stopped in front of him on the other side of the table, swinging his leg over the bench seat and sitting down. 

“Hey,” Liam said. 

“Is this a good idea?” Louis asked, gesturing at their surroundings. The pub was in a small square with restaurants, cafes and delis on all sides. It was busy and buzzing and the kind of place Louis had learned to avoid over the last few years. 

“Yeah,” Liam said. “I know it seems… Can I get you a drink before we…” 

“I’ll go,” Louis said. “I need to pee anyway. Is it busy inside?” 

“Not too bad,” Liam said. “It’s pretty dark, so…” 

Louis frowned and clambered out from the bench seat. He pointed at the bottle of Bud in front of Liam. “Another?” 

“Please, yeah.” 

Liam was right, it was dark inside the pub and the ceilings were low, the large space carved up into more intimate, smaller sections. Louis made it to the loo without incident. Stopped to text Harry (“Thanks for breakfast” with an aubergine emoji) and then made his way to the bar. On the way back outside, he glanced at a woman sitting in the window seat. She smiled quickly and then looked down at a coffee on the small table in front of her. Louis felt something flicker in his chest, but she didn’t move so he carried on outside and put the beers down on the table, sitting back down opposite Liam. 

“Okay?” Liam said. 

“Yeah,” Louis said slowly. “There was a girl in there that I…” He stopped. “Oh fuck,” he said, laughing. “I just realised who it was.” 

“Hmm?” Liam said, picking up his beer. 

“The waitress from Joe’s,” Louis said, pulling his own beer towards him. “She’s in there. She gave me her number when we had lunch. And then Harry--” 

Liam’s head snapped up from where he’d been looking at the table. “We need to talk about Harry.” 

“Yeah,” Louis said. “I know. We need to talk about a few things.” 

“I made a list,” Liam said, picking up his phone and tapping on Notes. 

Louis laughed. Of course Liam had made a list. 

“Okay,” Liam said, putting his phone down in front of him and taking a long pull of his beer before staring intently at Louis. “I owe you an apology. I’ve got it so fucking wrong. Over and over. I should’ve been supporting you and I let Cowell intimidate me and I know you’re not happy. I know you haven’t been happy and…” He ran a hand back through his hair. “I’m sorry. I fucked up. And I want to help fix it.” 

“Okay,” Louis said again. “That’s… that’s a relief.” 

“Don’t get too happy yet. There’s one thing I want you to do first and you’re not going to like it, but it’s going to help with everything else, yeah?” 

Louis picked up his beer. 

“Ella’s here because I asked her to come.” He held up his hand as Louis started to react. “I know. But listen. That’s why we’re sitting outside. She’s going to come and sit with you and there’s going to be photos and it’s going to buy us some time.” 

Louis shook his head. “I don’t want to do it. I told Harry I wasn’t going to do it. It’s not fair on him and it’s not--” 

“I know,” Liam interrupted. “You’re not doing it. It’s just this once. Just to buy us some time. I promise.” 

Louis shook his head. “I don’t know.” 

“You hate the album,” Liam said. 

Louis flinched. “How did you--” 

“I know you. I know what you’re like when you’re excited about something, when you’re enjoying what you’re doing. I haven’t seen it for a while. That day in the studio--” 

“We don’t need to talk about that,” Louis said. “You apologised for that.” 

“But you were right. And I was wrong. And I want to fix it. I want to fix everything.   
Tell me what you want.” 

“I want to scrap the whole thing and start again.” 

Liam nodded. “Then we need to get to work. And we need the time photos of you and Ella can buy us.” 

Louis stared down at the backs of his hands on the table in front of him. Harry would understand, he was sure. If he explained it was just a one-off, if he told him about the album. He would understand. 

“Okay,” Louis said. 

*

Louis pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine. He wanted to phone Harry. He wanted Harry to come over. But not today. He’d have to make some excuse. Liam was going to let him know when Julian had the masters. The masters that they were going to take hostage while Louis recorded a whole new album. That was Liam’s plan. Give Cowell what he wanted long enough for them to do exactly what they wanted. Then get the album out, come out, and sign with a new label. 

Louis rubbed his hand back through his hair. Liam said it would all be fine. And he trusted him, he did. But the thought of going up against Cowell so blatantly scared the shit out of him. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out, hoping it was Harry while, at the same time, wanting it to be Liam. It was neither. It was from Simon Cowell and it said, simply, ‘Good boy.’


	17. Chapter 17

The problem with Harry was that he was perfect, Louis thought as he turned his pillow over, punched it a couple of times, closed his eyes and tried to force himself to fall asleep.   
Like that ever worked. Louis had texted Harry to say he wasn’t feeling well and was going to have an early night and instead of just, you know, saying okay and going on with his life,   
Harry had sent Louis a series of messages about coming over to take care of him. He’d offered to make soup. He said he could bring his blanky - a fucking blanky - cos it always made him feel better when he was ill. Asked if Louis needed anything and offered to go to the chemist. It was a nightmare. 

And Louis had been in bed for over an hour now and felt about as far from sleep as he ever had in his life. He couldn’t even really get his eyes to stay closed, he felt so wired. He was just lying there, staring up at the ceiling, thinking about how fucked up everything was. Except for Harry. Harry wasn’t fucked up. Harry was perfect. And Louis had told him he wasn’t going to do the fake girlfriend thing and then he’d gone and done it anyway. And now he had to tell Harry. And he couldn’t face it. 

He sat up and swung his legs off the side of the bed. He was going to go downstairs, have a beer, play some Fifa and try to forget about Cowell’s text. Because that… Louis had agreed to Liam’s plan, he had. He trusted him. He figured it would all be ok in the end. But knowing that Cowell was pleased with him. Knowing that Cowell thought Louis had seen sense and decided that hiding his sexuality - hiding who he was - was the right thing to do… It made him want to vomit. 

He opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of beer. And then another for good measure. And then a third. Maybe Stan would still be up and on his X-Box. They hadn’t done that since just before Louis had met Harry. Stan was probably feeling neglected actually and Louis was a shit friend. 

He left his phone on the kitchen counter and carried the beers through to the lounge. 

 

Louis woke up on the sofa and immediately scrunched his eyes up against the bright sunlight flooding through the huge living room windows. Fuck. His back and his hip were killing him. He stretched his legs out and felt his vertebrae pop. His mouth was so dry, he couldn’t even swallow, so he reached out to the table and pulled a bottle of beer towards him, taking a tiny sip, just enough to moisten his lips. Gross. He put the bottle back on the table, knocking over one of the empties next to it. Wincing at the noise of the bottle rolling across the glass coffee table, he pulled himself up on the cushions and instinctively reached for his phone. Shit. He’d left it in the kitchen. 

He pressed his head back over the arm of the sofa, feeling his neck pop and crack. He’d had a great laugh with Stan. But he’d drunk so much. So much. At least if Harry came round, Louis would appear convincingly ill. His stomach fluttered at the thought of Harry. He missed him. It’d only been a day and he missed him. 

He missed the feeling of Harry’s long fingers encircling his wrist. The feel of his lips on his neck, his cheekbone. The way his laugh burst out of him and made his nose scrunch up. The way his hair fell over his face and he pushed it back and then stroked it into place and-- He felt his dick start to unfurl and idly rubbed his hand over it, wincing slightly at the friction. He should have a wank. But he didn’t want a wank. He wanted Harry. Harry’s hands. Harry’s mouth. Harry’s everything. 

This was ridiculous. He clambered off the sofa, staggering slightly and bumping into the coffee table, before righting himself and hobbling to the kitchen. Yoga, Mark had suggested. Ages ago. And Louis had laughed. But he should’ve listened. Because he was too young to feel this fucked after one night on the sofa. Maybe Harry would do yoga, it seemed like the kind of thing he’d be into. Louis suddenly had a vision of Harry bent over, arse up. Yeah, he couldn’t do yoga with Harry. Unless they did it at home, naked. They should really do that. 

Louis picked up his phone. He had a bunch of texts and a couple of voicemails. He ignored the voicemails - he almost always ignored voicemails - and opened Harry’s texts instead. The first one said ‘How are you feeling?’ and then ‘Are you ok?’ and ‘Are you asleep?’ and ‘I’m going to assume you’re asleep. Hope you feel better. Miss you.’ And then the next one said ‘Love you’. Louis’ belly flipped. He took a screenshot. 

The next message said ‘Morning!’ and then ‘Are you feeling better?’ and then ‘Are you ok? I’m getting worried’. Louis looked up at the clock. It was two in the afternoon, shit. He quickly texted ‘Only just up, sorry’ and then filled the kettle for tea. While he waited for it to boil, he texted ‘Still bit rough.’ He pulled a bowl and a box of cereal down from the cupboard and waited for Harry to reply. Although maybe he was at work. Louis wasn’t sure of his schedule. Or actually of what day it was. 

He drank his tea, ate the cereal and then went upstairs for a shower. And a wank. He was drying himself when he heard the door. He grinned to himself. He knew Harry wouldn’t be able to resist coming round. And then he remembered the Ella situation. But this was probably for the best. He had to tell him, he knew he did, and this way - with Harry in his house, looking all Harry-ish - there was no way out of it. 

He half-jogged to the entry phone, dropping the towel on the way. What if he opened the door naked? He could tell Harry about Ella after. 

He pressed the button and a face that quite clearly wasn’t Harry’s filled the screen. 

“Fuck,” Louis murmured. 

“Alright, mate?” said Preston. “Buzz me in.” 

“What are you…” Louis started to say, before glancing back at the towel he’d abandoned halfway down the hall. He knew Preston couldn’t see him, but he was still naked. He felt naked. 

“Didn’t Liam call you?” Preston said, frowning. 

“He… No, I don’t think so,” Louis said. “I had some voicemails, haven’t had a chance to--” 

“Are you going to let me in? Feel like a right wanker standing here, talking to the wall.” 

“Yeah,” Louis said. “Yeah. Just… hang on a minute. I’m just out of the shower.” 

“Righto,” Preston said. 

On the way back to the bedroom, Louis picked up the towel and rubbed his hair, roughly. Liam hadn’t mentioned Preston. Not for ages. He couldn’t be expecting to stay, at least. Louis had made it very clear to Liam that that wouldn’t be happening again. He pulled on his joggers and hoodie and ran down the stairs in his bare feet before pressing the entryphone and buzzing Preston in. 

When he opened the door, Preston’s suitcase was the first thing he saw. 

*

“I know,” Liam said. 

Louis paced the length of his living room again. “If you’d told me--” 

“I know,” Liam said again. “That’s why I didn’t tell you. And I know that’s going to piss you off even more--” 

“I’m not sure I could be more pissed off, to be honest, Liam.” Louis stopped and rested his head against the glass. His temples were throbbing. “I told you I didn’t want live-in security again.” 

“I know,” Liam said. “I know you did. And I didn’t want you to have to. But there’s going to be paps and--” 

“What?” Louis straightened up, his free hand balling into a fist. “Why?” 

“Cowell said that--” 

“Oh fuck me,” Louis groaned. 

“I know,” Liam said. “I know. But this is our best chance to get you what you want. I promise you.” 

“You don’t mean outside the house, right? The paps.” 

“I… yeah. He wants to go with a ‘secret girlfriend’ narrative. She’s been living with   
you for a while and you’ve kept it private.” 

“Fucking hell, Li. How the fuck am I supposed to--” He stopped and threw himself down on the sofa. “Shit.” 

“What?” 

“I was about to say ‘how am I supposed to hide it from Harry?’ Fuck.” 

“You can’t hide it from Harry, Lou.” 

“I know.” Louis put his head between his knees and saw another beer bottle that had   
half-rolled under the sofa. He hooked it out. “I know that. And I’ve been planning to tell him. It’s just… what if he doesn’t…” 

“Doesn’t what?” Liam asked. 

Louis lay the beer bottle on the coffee table and spun it with one finger. “Doesn’t think it’s worth it. Doesn’t think I’m worth it.” 

“Then he’s not worth it,” Liam said. 

“He is though,” Louis said. He leaned back on the sofa and tipped his head up to the ceiling, closing his eyes. “I’m in love with him, Li. We can’t fuck this up.” 

“We won’t,” Liam said. And Louis could practically see him, curled over his phone, frowning intently. “It’ll work out. I promise. You just need to trust me.” 

“Okay,” Louis said. “Okay.” 

“And Lou?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I’m happy for you, mate.” 

Louis laughed. “Thanks.” 

“Tell him today, okay?” 

“Yeah. Thanks. Yeah, I will.” 

 

While Preston was settling into the spare room, Louis looked for his phone. He finally found it on the bathroom countertop and immediately opened a message from Harry. 

‘Sorry. I was at work. Are you better?’ and then ‘I hope you’re better’ and ‘Are you in   
the studio?’ And finally ‘Give me a ring when you can - want to ask you something x’ 

Louis walked back into his bedroom and lay face down on the bed. He was going to have to tell Harry straight away because he’d have to tell him about Preston. And why Preston was needed. He took a breath and pressed the call button. 

“Heyyyy,” Harry said and Louis rolled onto his back, pressing the phone to his ear.

“Fuck,” he said. “I’ve missed you. I’ve missed your voice.” 

Harry laughed. “Me too. Are you feeling better?” 

“I… Yeah. I mean, I’m not a hundred percent, but… yeah. Do you want to come over?” 

“That was the thing I wanted to talk to you about,” Harry said and Louis felt a flash of fear that Harry was going to say no, he didn’t want to come over, he never wanted to come over, that they were done. 

“Yeah?” Louis managed to say. 

“Yeah. Like… Ed’s away. He’s taken Perrie away for a couple of nights and I thought maybe you would want to come here? I can cook. Or we could get a takeaway or whatever.” 

Louis laughed as his body flooded with relief. “Shit. Yeah. That sounds perfect actually.” 

“Now?” Harry said, his voice low. 

“Shit,” Louis said. “Yeah. I’ve just got a couple of things to sort, but it shouldn’t take long.” 

“Great,” Harry said. “See you in a bit.” 

 

Louis pulled a chair over from the other side of his bedroom and climbed onto it. From the top of the window he could see over the security gate to the street outside. No paps. He pulled on a pair of Vans and grabbed a holdall out from the bottom of the wardrobe, throwing in another hoodie, a handful of socks and pants and a couple of t-shirts. He grabbed his washbag from the bathroom and ran downstairs. Opening the front door, he stashed the bag just outside and then went back inside and up to Preston’s room. 

He knocked and Preston called out “You can come in.” 

He opened the door to find Preston sitting up at the top of his bed with his suitcase lying down and open just under the window. The curtains were closed and he was looking up at the TV on the wall opposite. 

“Pointless,” he said, gesturing. “You ever watch it? I love it.” 

“I’ve seen it, yeah,” Louis said. “It’s alright. I’m just nipping out for a bit, yeah? Won’t be long.” 

Preston looked from the screen to Louis, frowning. “There’s no one outside yet, right?” 

Louis shook his head. “I think Liam said tomorrow,” he lied. 

“Yeah, he said that to me too,” Preston said, looking back at the TV. “Go on then. Text me if you get stuck or you’re gonna be late.” 

“Yes, mum,” Louis said. 

“Cheeky little shit.” Preston grinned.

 

Louis actually pulled the hood up on his hoodie as he left the house, picking up his bag on the way. He had a moment of worry that there would be paps - hiding round a corner or over the road - but he made it to Harry’s house without seeing a single other person. 

Louis’s stomach flipped when Harry opened the door and grinned at him. His hair was up in a bun and he was wearing the slightly sheer white t-shirt Louis loved so much. He wanted to reach out and trace the outline of the butterfly, but he needed to get inside the house before he was spotted. 

Harry stepped out of the way and Louis walked inside and shut the door behind him. 

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” Harry said, pressing him back against the door. 

“Unf,” Louis said, Harry’s mouth already on his, his hips grinding slowly. Louis curled his fingers under the hem of Harry’s t-shirt and smoothed his hands across his skin. He should push him away, he should stop so they could talk, but he was already hard and Harry smelled incredible and felt incredible and Louis wanted to be inside him. 

“God,” Harry said, pulling back and tipping his head down against the side of Louis’s neck. “Come on.” 

He grabbed Louis’s hand and headed for the stairs. 

“I thought…” Louis said, his voice weak. “I thought you were cooking?” 

“I am,” Harry said. “But we’ve got time. Been dreaming about you in my bed. Want to fuck you.” He stopped on the bottom step and looked at Louis over his shoulder. “That ok?” 

Louis should have said no. He should have told him they needed to talk. He should have steered Harry into the living room and sat him down to have the conversation they had to have. But he was hard and Harry was beautiful and so he practically ran up the stairs, with Harry jostling him and laughing. 

Harry’s bedroom was in the loft. It was big and entirely white - the walls, the ceiling, the floorboards, the bed. The sun shone onto the bed through the one large window - Louis wanted to lie down in the square of sunlight like a cat. Grinning at Louis, walking backwards across the room, Harry threw himself back on the bed and did exactly that.

“I thought you were going to fuck me,” Louis said, crossing the room to join him, standing at the foot of the bed, between Harry’s knees. “Now you’re lying there like you’re expecting me to do all the work.” 

“Oh no,” Harry said, pulling at his belt buckle. “I’m totally prepared to do all the   
work. Just… come here first.” 

Louis, ridiculously, felt suddenly shy. He ducked his head and lowered himself onto the bed, on top of Harry, lining up their hips, his thighs falling either side of one of Harry’s. He pressed his head into the side of Harry’s neck and felt the sunlight on the back of his own neck. 

“Hey,” Harry said, reaching up and carding his fingers through Louis’s hair. “Missed you.” 

“Missed you too,” Louis said, kissing down the side of Harry’s neck and then up to his jaw. “Your room’s very bright.” 

Harry laughed. “All the better for seeing you--” 

“Oh Christ,” Louis said, pressing his mouth to Harry’s to shut him up. Harry’s tongue snaked between Louis’s lips and his breath caught. He tasted so good. Tea and mint and Harry. Louis involuntarily rutted against Harry’s thigh and Harry’s hands smoothed down Louis’s back to grasp his arse. 

“Get your clothes off,” Harry said, against Louis’s mouth. 

Louis rolled off him and started to pull his sweats down. 

“No, wait,” Harry said, sitting up and shuffling to the end of the bed. “Come here.” 

Louis pulled his sweats back up and shuffled to the bottom of the bed where Harry reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him to his feet. 

“What?” Louis said. 

“Just…” Harry let go of his hand and smiled. “I want to see you.” 

Louis shook his head. It was too bright and he felt too exposed and he needed to-- 

Harry pulled his t-shirt over his head and Louis heard himself make a sound. Shit. 

Harry laughed, standing there, completely unashamed, dark tattoos standing out against his pale skin, hair falling down over his shoulders. “Your turn.” 

Louis shook his head again, dipping it down so his fringe fell over his face. He pulled his own t-shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor. 

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Harry said, staring at him. 

Louis couldn’t even speak. He wanted to step closer, to press himself up against Harry. To lick his tattoos, to hold him down on the bed and make everything outside of this room go away. 

Harry’s belt buckle was already undone, but he unbuttoned his jeans and started to push them down, swaying his hips from side to side. Louis stepped out of his Vans as he watched, his mouth dry, his chest fluttering with anticipation. 

Harry bent to pull his jeans off, taking his socks off with them and then straighted up, raising one eyebrow at Louis. 

Louis pushed his sweats down over his bum, over his already hard cock, and let them drop to the floor before stepping out of them. 

“Fuck,” Harry breathed, staring at his dick. 

Louis laughed. He wanted to say something. He wanted to comment on Harry being hard too, but he couldn’t make the words come out. He wanted to drop to his knees and say nothing at all. 

Harry pulled the waistband of his underwear out over his dick and then pushed them down to the ground, stepping out of them and kicking them behind him.

Louis did the same, his eyes flickering from Harry’s face, to the butterfly, to his cock. Fuck. 

“Get on the bed,” Harry said. 

Louis wanted to say something. Something about Harry being bossy. Something about just because it was Harry’s room didn’t mean that Harry-- 

“Come on, Lou,” Harry said, taking a step closer, his hands reaching out, but not touching. 

“How…” Louis said and then cleared his throat. “What do you want…” 

“Fuck,” Harry said, as if he hadn’t thought past this point. “Just lie back.” 

Louis turned and stepped back until the end of the bed hit the back of his thighs and then he let himself drop back on the bed. He was in the same position as Harry had been when they’d first come in, directly in the square of sunlight. He closed his eyes, the sun shining orange through his eyelids. 

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Harry said. Louis couldn’t tell where he was in the room, but the bed hadn’t moved, so he was presumably still standing. “I can’t believe I get to…” 

Louis felt Harry’s hands on his inner thighs and his hips jerked up. 

“Let me…” Harry said, his hands pressing Louis back down into the bed. 

He felt Harry’s lips trailing up the insides of his thighs, to the crease at the top and then over his right hip and then his left hip. He could feel his dick straining and jerked as Harry’s hair brushed over it. 

“Harry!” he moaned. “God!” 

He tipped his head back as he heard Harry laugh. “You like that?” And then his hair was swishing over his dick again and Louis tried to curl himself up to look down and see just what Harry was doing, but Harry moved his hands higher and held him down. The feeling of Harry’s hair brushing his hard cock was incredible, he could feel it down to his toes. He didn’t want Harry to stop but at the same time he needed… he needed… 

Harry sucked the tip of his dick into his mouth and Louis cried out. He could feel Harry’s fingers pressing into his hips as his tongue swirled and probed. And then Harry pulled back and swung his hair over him again. And then over his belly and his chest. Louis tried to open his eyes - Harry was directly above him - but it was still too bright. 

“You like that?” Harry murmured, before dropping down on top of Louis and licking into his mouth. Louis could taste himself and it made him groan. He pushed a hand into Harry’s hair, but Harry was sliding back down again, hair trailing over Louis’s skin, making him tremble. He dragged his tongue along Louis’ dick, over his balls, and then his hands were under Louis’s arse, lifting him up, curling his pelvis up from the bed. 

Louis wanted to scream. He bit the underside of his own arm, his eyes screwed shut tight. Harry licked over his hole and Louis yelped. 

“I love this,” he heard Harry say from between his legs. He reached down and pushed at his straining dick, before tangling his hand into Harry’s hair. Harry groaned and Louis twisted his hand in further, tugging Harry’s head. He didn’t want to pull him away from where his tongue was now licking from his hole to the base of his balls, but he loved the sounds Harry made when he pulled on his hair. 

“Fuck, Lou,” Harry said, and then moved back down again. He slid a finger in and   
licked around it and Louis pushed up against his other hand. He could hear himself whimpering, as Harry added a second finger and scissored them, licking between and around them. 

“Harry… I need… I need…” 

“What do you need?” Harry asked, before diving back down to push his tongue inside alongside his fingers. 

“I need you,” Louis groaned. “I need you to fuck me.” 

“Fuck,” Harry said. “Turn over.” 

Louis’s brain was only just starting to process the request when Harry started to turn him, his hands on his hips. Louis flopped over on his stomach and lifted his hips. 

“My god,” Harry said. “You can’t… I won’t last if you… Can you move down…” 

He pulled at Louis’s hips and Louis realised what he was trying to do, move him down the bed so Harry could fuck him standing up. He shuddered, his dick jerking, hands grasping at Harry’s duvet. 

“Fuck, yes,” Louis moaned, shuffling down the bed. “Here?” 

Harry made a noise that sounded something like agreement and then Louis could feel his dick pressing against him. 

“Yeah?” Harry said, one hand on Louis’s left hip. 

“Please,” Louis said, pushing his arse back again. 

Harry groaned. “God. You’re so…” 

Harry’s hand squeezed Louis’s hip as he pushed inside, slowly. Louis let his head drop down, his eyes still closed. It felt fucking incredible. Better than ever before. Louis wanted to move, to tell Harry to move, but he also wanted them both to stay still so he could just feel all the things he was feeling. 

“You okay?” Harry said. Louis felt his lips on his back, the scruff on his jaw grazing over Louis’s skin. 

“Yeah,” Louis managed to say. “So fucking good, Haz. I can’t--” 

“Can you open your eyes?” Harry said, his right hand on Louis’s right hip now. 

Louis opened his eyes. He was looking down under himself, his hard dick pointing up at him. He almost laughed. 

“Look to the side,” Harry said. “To the right.” 

He sounded wrecked already. Louis turned his head and immediately knew why. There was an enormous mirror leaning against the wall. Louis on all fours on the bed, his dick straining underneath him. Harry standing at the foot of the bed, hands on Louis’s hips, pressed right up against him, inside him. 

“Fuck,” Louis breathed. 

“How does it look?” Harry said. 

“Can’t you see?” Louis asked. He started to look over his shoulder at Harry, but the movement shifted Harry inside him and he groaned. 

“No,” Harry said. “God, Lou. Can I move? I need to--” 

“Fuck,” Louis said. “Yes.” 

He watched in the mirror as Harry pulled out of him and then pushed back in. The slow dragging heat of it made Louis feel like he was vibrating off the bed. He wasn’t going to last, he was going to come. He reached down and gripped the base of his dick. He didn’t want to miss this, couldn’t let it be over too soon. 

“You look so fucking good,” Harry said. “You feel so--” 

Louis cried out as Harry pulled almost all the way out and then pushed in again, his hips flush against Louis’s arse, his fingers pressing into his skin. Louis wanted to reach out and touch the mirror. He wanted to film it. He wanted to memorise it so he could watch it forever. He curled his back up, sucking his stomach in, and he heard Harry hiss. 

“Fuck me,” Louis watched himself say in the mirror. “Harry. Fuck me.” 

“Shit,” Harry said, his feet shifting on the carpet, hands gripping Louis’s hips, as he pulled back out and slammed in so hard Louis cried out. He closed his eyes involuntarily, but forced himself to open them again. He had to watch. 

“Yeah?” Harry said. “Like that? Lou?” 

“Yeah,” Louis groaned, watching himself in the mirror. “Please. Please.” 

He looked from his own reflection to Harry’s. Harry was staring down at his cock sliding in and out of Louis and making sounds every time he pushed back in. “Fuck!” or “Lou” or “God.” Louis’s eyes moved between Harry’s hands, his face, his cock. He felt heat building in his belly as his toes curled against the duvet. 

“I’m close,” Harry grunted out. “Fuck. Sorry. I’m close. Lou. I--” 

Louis gripped his dick again. He didn’t want to stop. He wanted to carry on watching Harry fuck him. Wanted to feel it in his thighs, his belly, his shoulders. Harry was starting to lose rhythm, fucking him faster and harder, pulling at his hips. And Louis couldn’t breathe. 

“Haz,” he gasped out, arching his back up, causing Harry to hit his prostate and then everything went black and he was coming, the electrifying heat rushing through his body. He heard Harry cry out and forced his eyes open to watch him come. Harry’s head was thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, mouth frozen open. His chest was flushed red, hair falling down his back and Louis had to close his eyes again. It was too much. Harry was too much. 

“Fuck,” Harry breathed as he slowly pulled out and Louis let himself relax face down on the mattress. His thighs were trembling. He felt like everything was trembling. His heart was pounding, mouth dry, head fuzzy. 

“You okay?” Harry said. Louis felt him climbing onto the bed and then he was lying on top of him. Louis could feel his dick, limp now, at the top of his thigh. Harry kissed the back of Louis’s neck and said, again, “Open your eyes.” 

Louis opened his eyes and saw himself looking completely fucked out, Harry on top of him, cheeks pink, eyes bright, grinning at him in the mirror. 

“Hi,” Harry said.


	18. Chapter 18

Louis came downstairs from Harry’s shower, still feeling soft and boneless. He’d used Harry’s shower gel, Harry’s shampoo, his conditioner, even though he didn’t usually bother with conditioner. He wanted to smell like Harry, keep Harry with him when he had to go home. 

The kitchen was smaller than Louis’s, although it opened out into the dining area, with a breakfast bar in between. Harry was carrying an enormous pan over to the table. He put it down and then turned to smile at Louis. He was wearing oven gloves. 

“Nice gloves,” Louis said. 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Don’t touch that pan!” 

“I’m not a child,” Louis said, crossing the room to the table. Paella. Harry had made paella. And Louis did actually want to pick out one of the prawns - it all smelled great - but he made himself walk away. 

“Looks really good,” he said, coming up behind Harry and nuzzling at his neck. “Smells amazing too. You can’t’ve done this while I was in the shower?” 

“I prepped most of it before you got here,” Harry said. “It just needed blasting in the oven.” 

Louis ran his lips over the back of Harry’s neck. He loved it when Harry had his hair up and Louis could actually get at the paler skin there. 

“Can you get the wine?” Harry said, pushing his bum back a bit to knock Louis out of the way. 

Louis stepped back and Harry bent down to the oven again. Louis gripped Harry’s hips with both hands and was about to press up against him when Harry said, “Hey! Health and safety! I’m dealing with hot stuff here!” 

“And I’m not?” Louis said, but he stepped out of Harry’s way and watched Harry carry a plate of garlic bread over to the table. 

“Where’s the wine?” Louis asked, but Harry was already picking up the bottle and glasses and taking them to the table too. 

 

“So I can’t do anything?” Louis said. 

“You can sit down and eat the food I made.” Harry pulled a chair out and sat down. 

“Shit. Show me up, why don’t you.” Louis sat opposite Harry and held out his plate for Harry to pile out some paella. He added a piece of garlic bread and then poured wine for both of them. 

“This is amazing,” he said, smiling across the table at Harry. “I can’t believe you did all this.” 

“I wanted to,” Harry said, ducking his head and suddenly looking almost shy. “I was   
so excited when Ed said he was going to be away. Couldn’t wait to get you over here. Missed you.” 

Louis bit at his lip. He needed to tell Harry why he hadn’t come over sooner. But not yet. Not while they were eating this amazing meal. Not while Harry was looking so proud and hopeful. It made something crack in Louis’s chest. He’d tell him right after they’d eaten. No more excuses. 

Once they’d seen off most of the paella, Harry got a tub of Ben & Jerry’s out of the freezer and told Louis to grab two spoons from the drawer next to the sink. 

“I thought we could go and watch a film maybe?” Harry said. “In my bed?” 

“I need to talk to you about something…” Louis said, following Harry through the room. 

Harry glanced back at him over his shoulder, holding the ice cream tub over his head. “We can talk in my bed, yeah?” 

“Yeah.” Louis followed him up the stairs. 

 

“What did you want to talk about?” Harry said later, when they’d argued over a bunch of films on Netflix, before finally deciding to put Wayne’s World on because they’d both seen it loads of times and so wouldn’t have to concentrate and could “do other things” Harry had said, waggling his eyebrows. 

Harry’s enthusiasm for “other things” was part of the reason Louis was finding it so hard to tell him. Not because he wanted to keep having sex - although he really wanted to keep having sex - but because he knew Harry was going to be disappointed and the thought of disappointing Harry was just… Louis couldn’t bear it. 

“It’s… not good,” Louis said. 

Harry shifted against the pillows, turning his body towards Louis, his eyebrows pulling down with concern. Louis looked at his mouth. There was a smear of chocolate ice cream just under his bottom lip and Louis wanted to lick it. 

“Remember…” Louis started, ridiculously because of course Harry would remember. “Remember we talked about the… closeting? The fake girlfriend?” 

Louis looked down at his own hands, resting on his thighs on top of the duvet. “Well, there was a… development.” 

He glanced up at Harry, who was tugging on his bottom lip with his finger and thumb. 

“Liam thinks that it’s better to go ahead with it. With… the girlfriend. To buy us more time. With Cowell. He has a plan and… I didn’t want to do it. Obviously I didn’t. But he thinks it’s the best way to get what we want.” 

“So…” Harry turned his body again. Away from Louis this time. And Louis wanted to turn him back and say ‘No, don’t do that. Stick with me. It’s going to be okay’ but he didn’t say anything. He just waited. 

“So… I don’t really understand? I don’t think. You’ve got a girlfriend now?” 

“Her name’s Ella,” Louis said, his stomach swooping with something that felt like dread. “They’re spinning it as a secret girlfriend who’s been living with me for a while. That way it’s more of a story, apparently. There’s going to be paps… at the house. And I’ve got security--” 

“Wait,” Harry said and something in his voice made Louis look over at him. He looked confused and scared and sad. Louis wanted to tell him it wasn’t true, there was no Ella, no Preston, no Simon fucking Cowell, just him and Harry and ice cream and bed and sex and love and happiness. 

“I don’t understand,” Harry said again. “What does that… how is that going to work for us?” 

“It doesn’t need to change anything,” Louis said and then jumped as Harry let out a bark of laughter. 

“Seriously, Lou? How can it not? You’re going to sneak me past the paps, yeah? And security? And your girlfriend? I mean, I assume she’s not going to be in your bed, but it still sounds a bit awkward, us fucking while she’s - what? Having sleepovers with security?” 

“Harry, don’t--” 

“I can’t…” He tried to run his hands through his hair, but it was still up in a bun, so instead he reached back and tugged on it. Louis watched more tendrils of hair fall down and wanted to wrap them around his fingers, use them to pull Harry to him so he could hold him and kiss him and tell him everything would be okay. Eventually. 

“You said…” Harry looked over and Louis actually flinched at the hurt on his face. “You said Liam said this would work, that Liam thought this would be the best thing, but… what about you? Do you think this is the right thing to do?” 

Louis tried to slow his breathing, he pulled his legs up, hooking his hands around his own ankles for something to do with them. “I trust Liam. I know he hasn’t been great. He knows he hasn’t. But he was… at the start. And I trust him on this. It’s a difficult situation. Simon Cowell is--” 

“He can’t force you to do this! I know people think he’s some kind of monster, but I don’t believe he can--” 

“He can, Harry!” Louis reached out and wrapped his fingers around Harry’s wrist and was relieved when Harry didn’t pull away. “He absolutely can. I’ve got a contract and he could… he could destroy everything. I need to try… to get what I want. And if Liam says this is what I need to do, then I believe him. I don’t like it, fuck, I hate it. But I have to do it.” 

Harry was staring down at the bed. “How long?” 

“What?” 

Harry looked over at Louis. His eyes looked shiny. Louis had to look away. 

“How long do you need to do this for? How long will it take?” 

“I don’t know,” Louis said. “I’m sorry, I--” 

“You said a year. Last time we talked about this - when you said you weren’t going to do this - you said you had a year on your contract. Are you going to have to do this for a year?” 

Louis curled forward, as if he’d been punched. His breath felt tight in his chest. “No. I don’t think so. I don’t know. I can ask Liam. I need to… we need to re-record the album and I--” 

“I can’t do it,” Harry said, his voice low. 

“What?” Louis was still holding Harry’s wrist, he could feel his pulse racing under his thumb. 

“I can’t be… I can’t pretend. Not for a year.” 

“Fuck, Harry,” Louis said, tugging gently on Harry’s arm. “I don’t want you to. I wouldn’t ask you to--” 

“I was so proud of you,” Harry said, his voice cracking. 

Louis swallowed around the lump in his throat. “You can be. You will be. I just need to--” 

“I know. You need to do this first. I know.” 

“Harry. Please.” Louis was still tugging and Harry finally let himself be pulled. He rested his forehead on the top of Louis’s shoulder and Louis reached his other hand up to hold the back of Harry’s neck. 

“I love you,” Louis said, his lips in Harry’s hair. “I love you so much.” 

“I love you too,” Harry said. 

“I don’t want to do this. And if there’s any way I can speed it up-- I’ll talk to Liam. It won’t be a year, I promise. Harry? I promise.” 

Louis felt Harry’s lips on the side of his neck. “Okay,” Harry said. “Okay.”   
*

Louis pulled his hood up and turned right when he walked out of Harry’s door. He didn’t have anywhere to go, but he didn’t know what would be waiting for him at home so first of all he needed fresh air. And if there were paps at the house, he needed to not be seen coming out of Harry’s place. 

He felt like he couldn’t properly catch his breath, like he was panting like a dog. He felt like he hadn’t taken a full breath since he’d told Harry, since he’d thought - for what were the most terrifying moments of his life so far: worse than his dad leaving, worse than his Voice audition, worse than facing Simon Cowell in Liam’s office - that Harry was going to end things between them. 

And even though Harry had been okay when Louis had left - even though Louis had held him and kissed him and Harry had promised he trusted him and would be there when Louis needed him - Louis felt like shit. Because Harry shouldn’t have to hide. He shouldn’t have to be a secret. He shouldn’t have to put things on hold while Liam and Julian and Louis sorted everything out. Harry was perfect. And Louis was proud to be loved by him, to be in love with him. But everything was fucked up. 

Louis walked through the automatic doors of the Tesco Metro on the main road and then stood just in front of the fruit and vegetables, wondering what he was doing there. He glanced at the flowers and immediately thought about buying some for Harry - they had these ridiculous over-the-top purple things he just knew Harry would love. But he couldn’t, because he couldn’t go back to Harry’s house now. Not until the paps were gone and he had   
no idea when that would be. 

Harry had been scared he just wouldn’t get to see Louis until it was all over, and honestly Louis didn’t know how it was going to work either - Harry couldn’t come to his place and he couldn’t go to Harry’s - but he was determined to make it work. There was always hotels. It might be kind of sexy. Louis shook his head at himself. It wasn’t sexy. It was fucking awful. But his dick twitched anyway at the thought of laying Harry out on some random hotel bed and showing him exactly how much he wanted to be with him. In every possible way. 

Louis was in the wine aisle now, wondering if he should just get a bottle and go home and get completely hammered. He picked one up and then put it down. He had wine at home, shitloads of it. He kept walking through the shop, wondering when he’d last been in. When he’d stopped thinking about shopping, because now he had a housekeeper who filled his fridge and cupboards and came and went so early in the morning that Louis hardly ever saw her. He didn’t know what his life even was anymore. 

He walked up to the counter and bought a pack of Marlboro Lights and a lighter. He could tell the cashier recognised him, but didn’t want to say anything - her cheeks had gone very pink and her hands were shaking when she handed him his change. On a different day, Louis might say hi and offer her a selfie, but not today. 

Outside, Louis unwrapped the packet and lit up - cigarette in his mouth, hands sheltering it from the light breeze - and was immediately back in Doncaster with Stan and some other mates. In the park, on the roundabout, just going round and round, chatting shit. He closed his eyes for a second, letting the smoke fill his lungs, then dropped the cig on the floor and scrubbed it out with his heel, before setting off back home. 

 

He was almost at Harry’s house - and telling himself not to even look up at it, he couldn’t go in, he had to go home - when he saw the paps gathered just beyond his gate. Even though he was still too far away to see them properly, there was just something about the way they moved… he knew they were paps, not fans, not a random bunch of people stopped for a chat on the street. There was something animalistic about them. They clearly recognised him as he got closer, they started to move towards him, en mass. There was only about six of them, but they were lifting their cameras to their faces and Louis felt the dread start to roll in his stomach. 

“Louis!” one of them shouted. 

Louis ducked his head. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the cigarettes. 

“Louis! Where’s the girlfriend?” 

Without looking up, Louis tapped a cigarette out against his palm, put the packet back, took out the lighter and lit it. There was something tugging at his memory, something about cigarettes and pap photos. But really he just wanted something to do with his hands, a distraction, that feeling of smoke in his lungs again. 

“Why did you keep her secret?” 

The clicks had started now and Louis felt each one like a pinprick, a pinch, an electric shock. The first time he’d been papped it had been exciting - the cameras clicking, the flashing, the people shouting his name. He’d laughed out loud afterwards, felt like he’d really arrived, was proper famous. Now, it made him feel like he wasn’t even a real person, like they could do anything they wanted to him and he couldn’t do anything about it. 

“Louis!” 

Louis glanced up and realised he was right outside his gate. The paps were keeping what could be described as a respectful distance - they were still too close, of course, but they weren’t actually shoving him or grabbing at his clothes - but Louis almost wanted to keep walking, not go inside his home. This was his home. And he hated that they were right there. Outside. Waiting for him. 

“You’ll bring her out for photos, yeah?” someone said. 

“She’s not here!” Louis said, automatically, shielding his hand as he tapped in the   
security code and the gate started to open. 

The flashes and clicks continued, even though they must only be getting the back of his head, his hood still up. Louis stepped onto his property and leaned back against the door for a second, before doubling over, his hands on his knees. His heart was racing and he thought he might actually throw up. Breathe. In two three. Out two three. He was still holding the cigarette. He straightened up and took another drag. Struggling to breathe, but still smoking, Louis thought. Fucking stupid. 

He heard the front door open and then Preston was next to him, tucking his arm under Louis’s and guiding him towards the front door. 

“What the fuck?” Louis said, as they stepped inside the house. “What the fuck was that?” 

“You knew they were coming,” Preston said, walking down the hall towards the kitchen, as if this was his house. “Liam’s here.” 

“Shit,” Louis said. He wanted to go for a shower, wash the pap walk off himself. He wanted to get into bed and call Harry and go to sleep. He wanted to wake up and find this was all a bad dream. Instead, he followed Preston to the kitchen. 

 

Liam was sitting on one of the stools at the breakfast island, a cup of tea in front of him. Preston was leaning against the cooker, holding a bottle of beer. Louis’s beer. And Ella was there too. Next to Liam. She looked younger than last time Louis had seen her. Young and nervous. 

“Oh you’ve got to be shitting me,” Louis said. 

“Lou,” Liam said, his voice rough. He cleared his throat. “You said you were going to trust me.” 

“Fucksake, Liam,” Louis said. He took a last drag of the cig before running it under the tap and dropping it down the waste disposal. “I do trust you. Everything is fucking shit because you said it was going to get worse before it gets better. So tell me how it’s going to get better, please. Because the way I feel right now, I want to go and kiss the fucking life out of Harry on his doorstep, in front of the paps, and let Cowell do his worst.” 

Liam shook his head. “He would sue you. He wasn’t bluffing about that. He doesn’t like to lose.” Liam rubbed his hands over his face. “That’s an understatement, actually. He’d destroy you.” 

“So what’s the plan, Li,” Louis said. He suddenly felt so bone tired that he wanted to lie down on the kitchen floor, the tiles cool against his skin. “I need a plan. And I need a timescale.” 

“Okay,” Liam said. “We can do that. But first we need to, ah, show Ella to her room.”


	19. Chapter 19

“Can he do that?” Louis said. “Just… delete the songs?” 

“Well… he could,” Liam said, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. “He could just wipe them, but he hasn’t exactly done that. But he’s made them inaccessible to Syco and Simon.” 

Louis scrubbed one hand back through his hair. “How?” 

“Don’t worry about it. The only thing you need to worry about is coming up with twelve new songs. As soon as possible.” 

“Oh, is that all?” Louis said. He was lying on the sofa, his head propped up at one end, socked feet poking at the other. “Julian’s protected though, right? I don’t want him to get shit for this.” 

“Don’t worry about Julian,” Liam said. “He knows what he’s doing.” 

Louis blew out a breath. “I’m glad someone does.” 

Liam laughed. “You’ve got some songs, right? New songs?” 

“I’ve got… I don’t know… three? Three that I’m happy with. Bits of others.” 

“We’ve got a lot of work to do then,” Liam said. 

Louis snorted. “Yeah.” 

“It’s going to be worth it though,” Liam said. “I promise.” 

Louis pushed himself up on the sofa a bit so he could look over at his manager and friend. “I’d feel a bit more confident if you didn’t look like you were shitting yourself.” 

Liam laughed. A proper loud laugh that made his eyes crinkle so hard that they completely disappeared. Louis grinned. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Liam laugh like that. He liked it. 

“I am shitting myself!” Liam said. “Simon Cowell scares the hell out of me. But I believe in you. And I’ve got your back. And so has Julian. And James. And Niall. Actually, that reminds me - does Niall write? Have you ever written together?” 

Louis shook his head. “We tried once, years ago, but nah. There is someone I would like to work with though…” 

Liam pulled his phone out. “Want me to find out for you?” 

“No, mate,” Louis said. “I can sort it myself. Thanks.” 

*

“Hey,” Louis texted Harry later. When Liam had gone and Preston and Ella were both in their rooms and even though there were more people in it than there had been for a long time, Louis was alone and the house felt too big and too quiet. 

Louis stared at his phone. He watched ‘Delivered’ appear under the message. Harry was probably asleep. It was pretty late. He should just turn his phone off and get some sleep himself. 

And then ‘Read’ popped up under the message and Louis’s breath caught in his chest. 

“Come on,” he muttered at the phone, holding it close to his face as if he could make Harry answer with the power of his mind. “Come on, Harry.” 

The bubble popped up with the three dots pulsating. 

What if Harry didn’t want to talk to him? Louis thought. What if Harry wasn’t willing to wait for Louis to sort his shit out? He couldn’t bear it. His stomach twisted with fear as the bubble disappeared and then reappeared. 

“Come on, Harry,” Louis said, and the need in his voice would have embarrassed him if he hadn’t already known he was close to tears. “Please.” 

“Hey,” popped up and Louis laughed out loud. Fuck. 

“Are you ok?” Louis texted. “I’m sorry. About earlier. About everything.” 

“You don’t have to be sorry about everything. The sex was pretty good.” 

And then a winky face popped up. Louis pressed call. And it went straight to voicemail. Weird. 

“Hey,” he said. “I just thought I’d call you instead of texting, but maybe you’ve turned your phone off, I don’t know. I just wanted to say sorry again. And tell you I love you. And that Liam is confident it’s all going to work out. I know I keep saying the same shit and I’m sorry. But I really want this. I think it could be good. And I really hope you can be patient and wait for it because I want to be with you. I promise I do. Okay. Better go. Love you. Goodnight.” 

He pressed end call and dropped the phone on the bed next to him. He missed Harry so much. He wanted him here on the bed next to him now. He’d never been that big a fan of sleeping alone, but since he’d started sleeping with Harry it had become unbearable. 

His phone chimed with a notification and he picked it up. Voicemail message. From Harry. 

“Heyyyy,” Harry said. “I don’t know why I’ve gone to voicemail. Even you don’t fall asleep that fast. I just wanted to say sorry about before. I was just a bit… blindsided. I’m so proud of you. And I know it’s going to be hard and I should have been more supportive. I’ll do better in future, I promise. I wish you were here with me now. I don’t like sleeping without you. Call me in the morning? Love you. Goodnight.” 

Louis wiped at his eyes with the back of his hands. For fuck’s sake. How was Harry even real. His phone rang in his hand and he startled, dropping it on his face. 

“Shit,” he said, as he answered. “Harry?” 

“No, not Harry,” Simon Cowell said, his voice low and oily. “And may I suggest you find an alternative way of answering the phone?” 

Louis sat up, feet scrabbling against the bed. Shit. 

“I was just calling to tell you that the pap photos from today are unusable because you’re smoking. I’m sure you feel like you got away with something, but you’re only hurting yourself. We get good photographs, the paps can give you a break. You carry on acting up, you’ll find they’re there every single day.” 

“Fine,” Louis said, his voice tight. 

“Good,” Simon said. “Give Ella my best wishes.” And then the line went dead. 

Louis put the phone face down on the bedside table and then punched his pillow until he was breathless and red in the face. 

*

“I wish I was there,” Harry said. 

Louis hadn’t slept well. He’d taken ages to drift off then had repetitive nightmares about being chased and trapped. As soon as it was light, he’d texted Harry and luckily Harry had been awake too. 

“What would you do if you were?” Louis asked, running his fingers down his bare chest. 

Harry laughed. “Oh, are we doing this?” 

“Yeah? Do you want to?” 

“I could be convinced…” Harry said. 

“I’m shit at it though, so maybe not.” 

“Fuck off!” Harry said. “I’m already half-hard!” 

“Jesus.” Louis laughed, curling his hand over his own dick. “That was fast.” 

“Tell me you’re not.” 

“Yeah,” Louis said, his voice lower. “I am.” 

Harry groaned. “How about I sneak around the back and climb in the window?” 

“Don’t even joke. I might climb out and come round to yours.” 

“Nah,” Harry said. “You stay where you are. I’ll come in through your window and… will you be in bed?” 

“Nope,” Louis said, popping the p, grinning into the phone. “Shower.” 

“Nice,” Harry said. “Good hygiene is important. So I climb in your window. Cross your bedroom - stopping to smell your pillow.” 

“Pervert,” Louis said, his hand curling loosely around his hardening dick. 

“I can hear the shower running. So I push the door open. I can’t see you right away cos of the steam, but then I do. And you’re touching yourself.” 

“Am I?” Louis said. “Why?” 

“Thinking about me. Thinking about how much you miss me. Miss my hands on you, my mouth on you.” 

“Fuck. Yeah.” Louis tapped on speaker and put the phone down on the pillow next to him, pushing himself further down the bed. 

“And I’ve been missing you too,” Harry said, his voice loud in the quiet room. Louis tapped the volume down and moved so Harry’s voice was right by his ear. “Which is why I’ve risked my life climbing in through your window. But it’s worth it when I see you there. Water running over your skin. Your head tipped back, eyes closed tight, mouth open, jerking yourself off thinking about me.” 

“Fuck, Harry…” Louis started to jerk himself, smearing pre-come down his dick and over his hand. 

“I drop my clothes on the bathroom floor and slide the shower door back, stepping up behind you. I kiss the side of your neck, running my tongue over your skin. And you push your arse - your incredible arse - back against my crotch and my dick slides between your cheeks.” 

“Yeah,” Louis said, breathlessly. “I want that.” 

“Yeah? I push you forward a bit, my hand between your shoulder blades. You brace yourself against the wall. And I rub up against you, sliding my dick up and down, running my hands over your chest, your belly, your cock, reaching down under your balls, until you’re begging for more.” 

Louis squeezed his eyes tight, picturing exactly what Harry was describing. Harry, soaking wet, tendrils of hair sticking to his beautiful face, droplets of water running over the birds on his chest. 

“What do you want?” Harry said, his voice low and strained, so Louis could tell he was touching himself too. 

“Put your mouth on me,” Louis said and heard Harry’s breath hitch. 

“I drop to my knees,” Harry said. “And slide my hands up your inner thighs, before sucking you into my mouth.” 

“Hot,” Louis gasped. 

“You’re so hard, Lou. You taste so good.”   
Louis grunted, one hand moving faster over his dick, the thumb and finger of the other hand squeezing his nipple. “Tell me.” 

“I suck your dick and you put your hand on my cheek - you can feel your cock in my mouth, under your fingers. You put your thumb on my bottom lip, feel how my mouth’s stretched around you.” 

“God,” Louis groaned. 

“And I pull back and rub the tip of your dick over my lips, jerking you with my hand, getting my face all messy. You want to come like this? Lou?” 

“Yeah,” Louis gasped. “Please. M’close.” 

“Me too,” Harry said. “I suck you down again and I can feel your thighs trembling, I know you’re close. The water’s running over my face, but I open my eyes and look up at you. You’re looking down at me and you look so fucking hot, all wet and--” 

“Harry… gonna come…” Louis curled over himself on the bed, his belly jumping, heat building, toes curling against the mattress. 

“I pull back,” Harry said. “But I’m still looking up at you. On my knees in the shower, Louis. On my knees for you. Are you coming?” 

Louis moaned. He couldn’t speak. He threw one arm over his face, biting against the soft skin there, his ‘Far Away’ tattoo. He didn’t think Ella or Preston would be able to hear him, but he wasn’t taking any chances. 

“Come on my face, Lou,” Harry groaned. “Look at me. Look at me with your come all over my face.” 

Harry sounded so close, so convincing, that Louis almost opened his eyes, half-expecting him to be there in his bed. 

“Fuck!” he shouted against his skin, as he came all over his belly. 

He heard Harry groan as he came too. For a few seconds they both just breathed into their phones, in their separate rooms. 

“You are so fucking good at that,” Louis said eventually, picking up the phone and clicking off ‘speaker’. “I mean, you could do it professionally.” 

Harry laughed. “I’ll bear that in mind.” 

“You okay?” 

“I mean… I’ve made a bit of a mess…” 

Louis laughed then. “Me too. Fuck. I really miss you.” 

“I miss you too,” Harry said. “Any idea when I’ll be able to see you?” 

Louis sat up, pulling open his bedside drawer and grabbing a handful of baby wipes.   
“When’s Ed back?” 

Harry snorted. “Are we asking him to chaperone?” 

Louis grinned as he wiped himself down. “I was going to ask him to write with me for the album. The new version of the album. Do you think he’d be interested?” 

“Fucking hell, Lou, yeah. He’ll shit himself.” 

“Well that’s something to look forward to.” Louis leaned over and dropped the wipes on the floor. He knew it was disgusting, but he felt boneless and had no intention of dragging himself out of his bed to go to the bathroom. 

“He’s back today,” Harry said. “Not sure what time. Want me to tell him to call you?” 

“Yeah, please,” Louis said. “And then I was thinking that if he comes to the studio, maybe you could come too? As Ed’s friend?” 

“I am a very good friend, it’s true,” Harry said, and Louis could hear the smile in his voice. It made something warm curl in his stomach. 

*

Louis slept for a while and then sat up in bed, trying to make sense of the song notes on his phone, until his stomach rumbled so loudly that he forced himself out of bed. He showered, running over Harry’s fantasy again as he did, getting himself off again. When he got out of the shower he texted Harry to tell him his phone sex skills had got the job done a second time, then headed downstairs to find some food. 

Ella and Preston were sitting at the breakfast island again. 

“Hey,” Ella said. She wasn’t wearing any make-up and she looked younger than she had when she’d asked Louis for his number at the restaurant. Fuck, that felt like ages ago. 

Louis didn’t know what to say to her, how to talk to her. Preston looked at Louis then at Ella, before getting up, pushing his stool back across the tiles. “Going to drop the kids off at the pool.” 

“I didn’t know he had kids,” Ella said once Preston had gone. 

Louis laughed. “No. He means he’s going for a shit.” 

“Oh god!” Ella said. “Gross.” 

Louis nodded, dropping two pieces of bread in the toaster. “Yep. Want some toast?” 

“No,” she said. “Thanks. I’m fine.” 

Louis filled the kettle and opened the cupboard for a mug. “Tea?” 

“Please,” Ella said. 

Louis dropped teabags in two mugs and then turned, leaning back against the units. 

“So this is awkward.” 

“Yeah.” Ella smiled. 

Louis frowned. “Why did you agree to do this? Liam didn’t really say.” 

“I want to be a singer,” she said. “I’ve written some stuff, done a few gigs, but I thought this might… get my name out a bit.” 

The kettle boiled and Louis poured the water into the mugs. He wasn’t sure about this as a way to fame. But then plenty of people thought the same about shows like The Voice, so who was he to judge. 

“I don’t want you to think… That’s not why I gave you my number that time,” Ella said. She’d pulled the fruit bowl towards her and was fiddling with an apple stem. “I’m a fan. And you’re, you know…” She waved a hand at him. “I didn’t know…” 

“Know what?” Louis asked, getting the milk out of the fridge. 

“That you’re, you know, gay. I didn’t know til Liam called me. And when he asked me… I don’t know, I felt bad for you. Having to hide it, you know?” 

Louis smiled. “Yeah. I know.” 

“I mean… my brother’s gay. And it hasn’t been easy for him, but he’s out and his mates are fine and he’s got a job he loves. He gets shit from knobheads in the street sometimes, but other than that he’s good. But I think it would’ve been good for him if he’d had someone like you. You know, someone he could look at and say it’s absolutely fine, it’s all going to be fine. You know?” 

Louis’s throat felt tight. “Yeah. That’s what I want. That’s part of why I want to come out. It would have helped me too.” 

Ella nodded. She’d snapped the stem off the apple and was twisting it between her fingers. “That’s good. What’s the other part?” 

Louis squeezed the teabag against the side of the mug. “The other part of what?” 

“You said that’s part of why you want to come out. What’s the other part?” 

“Oh yeah. My boyfriend.” 

“Yeah? Liam didn’t say anything about that.” 

Louis brought the teas over and sat down opposite Ella. 

“I don’t want this to be…” She frowned. “I’ve been thinking about it and it’s not fair. It’s not fair that you have to do this. And I want to make it easier for you.” She shook her head, her eyes closed. “God, that sounded like a come-on, I didn’t mean it to. I mean… I know it’s horrible. What you’re going through. What you’re having to do. But maybe… it could be fun? Not fun. Sorry. I’m being a dick.” 

Louis grinned. “No, don’t worry. I know what you mean.” 

Ella nodded, biting her lip. “I mean… if there’s anything I can do to make it easier for you. Then tell me.” 

“That did sound like a come-on,” Louis said, grinning at her from under his fringe. “I think it’s the way you licked your lips.” 

Ella laughed. “I did not. I mean it though. If there’s a way to use me--” 

Louis pretended to spit out his tea. 

“Piss off,” Ella said, still laughing. “Use me to see your boyfriend, I mean. You could   
use my flat? I don’t know. And I mean, he can come here. I don’t mind.” She pulled a face. “Of course I don’t mind. It’s your house. Fucking hell, Ella.” 

Louis smiled. “No, it’s fine. I appreciate it. Thank you for saying all those weirdly sexy things.” 

Ella picked up her tea and sipped at it, the steam curling up in front of her. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” 

“It’s a pretty fucking weird situation,” Louis said. “So I think if you and I can get on, it’ll make it easier. But I do want you to feel comfortable here. You know, treat this place as your own and all that. I mean, you can’t have anyone round, obviously.” 

“I don’t know...” Ella said. “Nothing’s going to reinforce your heterosexuality like a threesome with me and a mate.” 

“Christ,” Louis said. “I think I’m pushing my luck as it is. That would really be taking the piss.” He hopped off the stool as his toast popped up. 

“And you’re definitely gay, yeah?” Ella asked. “Not bi?” 

Louis leaned back against the kitchen units and grinned at her. “Definitely gay, yeah.” 

“Shame.” She raised one eyebrow and Louis laughed out loud.


	20. Chapter 20

“There’s paparazzi outside your house,” Ed said, as he walked into the lounge. 

The blinds were closed because even though Louis knew the paps couldn’t actually see in, he didn’t trust that they couldn’t actually see in. 

“I know,” Louis said. “Sorry about that.” He stood up and reached out for Ed’s hand. Ed took Louis’s hand and grasped it firmly, but he seemed reticent, nowhere near as friendly as he had when Louis had met him before. 

“Can I get you anything?” Louis asked, gesturing for Ed to sit down. “Tea? Coffee? Beer?” 

“Nah, thanks,” Ed said. “M’alright.” 

Louis nodded. Preston, who’d shown Ed in, was still standing in the doorway. 

“Can you…” Louis said and Preston left and closed the door without Louis needing to finish the sentence. 

“What’s he? Like, a butler?” Ed asked, frowning at the door. 

Louis laughed. “No. Security. I hate having someone in the house, but Liam - my manager - insisted because of the paps.” 

“And the paps are here because of the fake girlfriend,” Ed said. 

“You’re pissed off at me,” Louis said. He was actually relieved to realise. Although it also made him want to get up and get a beer. 

Ed shook his head, then ran one hand back through his scruffy hair. “Harry’s just… you know. Harry’s the best. And I don’t want to see him get hurt.” 

“I don’t want to hurt him,” Louis said. “I really want a beer. Can I get you a beer?” 

“Yeah, alright,” Ed said. 

Louis headed out to the kitchen and grabbed two bottles from the fridge. When he closed the door, Ella was standing behind it, grinning. 

“Christ!” he said, holding one of the bottles against his chest. “Scared the shit out of me.” 

“Sorry,” she said, smiling. “I was just going to ask what I should wear tonight.” 

“Tonight,” Louis repeated. 

“We’re going out for dinner,” Ella said. “Didn’t Liam tell you?” 

“There was a message on my phone, but I haven’t listened to it. Where are we going, do you know?” 

Ella shook her head. “He just said dinner. I’ll ring and ask him.” 

“Ask him what I should wear too, eh?” Louis said. 

“I was thinking little black dress. You got one?” 

Louis grinned and rolled his eyes at her, heading back towards the lounge. He noticed Ed was standing up and looking out through the blinds and then he turned back to Ella. “Oh hey, can you wear flat shoes? I don’t want you to be taller than me.” 

“Oh my god. Hashtag masculinity so fragile,” Ella said. 

“Piss off,” Louis said. 

He could hear Ella’s laughter - even though he’d been serious about the heels - as he crossed the room to give Ed his beer. 

“So what the fuck is the deal?” Ed said, taking the beer. “Shit. Sorry. I promised Harry I wouldn’t be a dick, but… I mean, he said management were forcing you to do this fake girlfriend thing, but then I come here and she’s living here and you’re laughing and joking and planning to go out together tonight and I just--” 

“I’m in love with Harry,” Louis said. “I don’t know if he’s told you that.” 

Ed looked slightly stunned. “No. He, er… No, he didn’t. He knows?” 

Louis smiled. “Yeah. He knows. I mean, I’ve told him enough. I hope. And I know this is all fucked up. But I’m doing it to try to change things for me. So I can come out. And be with Harry. That’s what I want. I’m lucky that me and Ella get on ok. But don’t think for a second that I want her here or I want the paps out there or I want to be going out for fake romantic dinners when I haven’t seen or touched Harry and--” 

“Alright, alright,” Ed said, his mouth twisting into a smile. “I don’t need all the gory details.” 

“Sorry,” Louis said, smiling. “I just… miss him.” 

“He’s a good lad,” Ed said. He swigged the beer. “Sorry I was all… you know.” 

“No,” Louis said. “It’s good. I’m glad he’s got you looking out for him.” 

They moved away from the window and Louis sat on the sofa while Ed sat in the armchair. 

“So… you wanted to work on some songs, yeah?” Ed said. 

Louis nodded, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “I know I’ve told you, but your stuff, man…” He shook his head. “It’s just… It’s so great. And the songs I recorded for my album were just shit really. I want to… What I’d like to try to do is write with you and get some of the vibe of your stuff, you know? I’m not describing it very well. Your stuff makes me feel… something. I haven’t found the word for it yet.” 

“We could just start writing and see how we get on?” Ed said. “I brought my guitar. The butler took it.” 

Louis grinned. “I’ll go and get it.” 

*

“Are all your songs about Harry?” Ed asked a couple of hours later. 

Louis actually felt his face get hot. “I mean… I think so, yeah.” 

Ed laughed. “Sorry, mate. It’s good. I was worried that you weren’t as into him as he is you. But I can see from these songs--” 

“Shut up,” Louis said. “And don’t tell him.” 

“That you think he’s ‘as beautiful as he is sweet’? Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

“Fuck’s sake.” Louis shook his head. “I’m getting another beer. And I shouldn’t, cos I’ve got to go out for dinner with my fake girlfriend. But you’ve driven me too it. Hope you’re proud.” 

“I am, funnily enough,” Ed said. 

He was perched on the edge of the sofa, his guitar over his knees and his notebook and pen on the coffee table. Louis had been reading out his lyrics and then they worked the melody and worked on the lyrics together. It was going really well. It was a shame Louis had to leave. 

“What do you think of it though. Really,” Louis said, coming back in with beers for both of them. 

“I think it’s great, mate. Seriously. Sweet and romantic. Harry’ll fucking lap it up, I’m telling you.” 

Louis laughed. “Yeah. But apart from Harry. As a song. For me. For my album?” 

“It’s great. Good last track, I think. Do you want to try something else? Before you have to go?” 

Louis nodded, swigging his beer. “If this is the sweet, romantic one, we should probably try the filthy one.” 

Ed laughed. And his laugh was filthy. “Sounds like a plan.” 

Louis scrolled his phone to find the lyrics he’d started working on the very first day he met   
Harry. “In the heat, where you lay, I could stay right here and burn in it all day.” He’d been adding to it every since and was pretty pleased with the results. Although it was much dirtier than anything he’d written or sung before. He wasn’t sure if Syco would go for it. But maybe he shouldn’t worry about that. 

Ed was strumming his guitar and singing “Taste on my tongue. I don't want to wash away the night before…” when Ella came in, apologising. 

“We need to go soon, sorry.” 

“You look nice,” Louis said. She was wearing a simple black dress, short and tight, with high shoes and her hair up. 

“Thanks,” she said, looking down at herself. “Liam told me to go simple, but I can change my shoes if you don’t think you’re man enough.” 

“Christ,” Louis said. “No, it’s fine. I’ll go and get showered.” 

“Do you mind if I keep working on this?” Ed said. “I’m just, like… I feel like I’ve almost got something…” 

“No,” Louis said. “That’d be great. I’ll be quick.” 

Louis ran up the stairs, stripped off in his bedroom, showered and got dressed in a black round necked long-sleeved top, black jeans and brown boots. He roughly dried his hair, thought about shaving, decided against it and lay face down on his bed to ring Harry. 

“Heyyyy,” Harry said, answering. 

“So I may have traumatised Ed by telling him how madly in love with you I am.”   
Harry laughed. “Yeah? Why?” 

“He was pissed off at me.” Louis shuffled up the bed and leaned back against the headboard.   
“So I told him he had nothing to worry about. Because I love you.” 

“I love you too,” Harry said. “And I’m sorry about Ed. I told him not to--” 

“It’s fine,” Louis said. “He was just being protective. It’s nice. Where are you?” Louis could hear traffic noise and the echoey sound that meant Harry was outside. 

“Work. I’m in the beer garden. Collecting glasses. Setting up for tonight.” 

“What’s tonight?” 

“Ed’s playing. Didn’t he say?” 

“No, he didn’t mention it. He’s still here. Downstairs. Just finishing up on a song.” 

“How’s it going?” 

Louis smiled. He was tempted to tell Harry about the songs they’d been working on, but it was too soon. And he didn’t want to spoil it. “It’s good, I think. I think it could work out   
really well.” 

“Don’t suppose there’s any way you could come tonight?” Harry said. 

“To the pub?” Louis frowned. “No. Sorry. I’ve got to be somewhere.” 

“Yeah? Where are you going?” 

“Dinner,” Louis said, pulling up his knees and resting his head on them. “With Ella.” 

“Right,” Harry said. “Okay.” 

“M’sorry.” 

“No, don’t be. It’s okay. I know it’s… It’s fine.” 

“Harry,” Louis said. 

“Louis.” 

“Don’t be upset.” 

“I’m not. I mean… yeah. I am a bit. But not because of… Ella. Because I miss you.” 

“I miss you too.” 

“Do you know when--” 

“I was going to ask Ed to come and meet me at the studio tomorrow. You could come with?” 

“Yeah? And would we get to... I mean, would there be any chance to be alone?” 

“Are you asking if you can fuck me in the studio, Harold?” 

Harry laughed. “No. Well, I mean, if that’s a possibility, I’m not going to say no. But that’s not   
what I meant. I just… I want to see you. Touch you.” 

“Fuck,” Louis said, pressing a hand between his legs. “And now I’m picturing me bending you over the mixing desk. If I can’t write cos all my blood’s in my dick, I’m holding you responsible.” 

“Don’t care. As long as you hold me,” Harry said and Louis could hear the smile in his voice. 

“Ugh, you’re awful. Pleased with yourself, aren’t you?” 

“Yup. Tell me more about the mixing desk.” 

“You’re in the beer garden, Harry! Think of the poor innocent plants.” 

Harry laughed. “I’m not now. I’m hiding. In the stock room. It’s all glasses and beer mats in here, they’re filthy. And the door locks...” 

Louis groaned. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I’ve got to go. But if it helps, you’ve made me very uncomfortable in my jeans.” 

“Sending you off for a hot date with a gorgeous woman and a hard dick? Yeah, I feel great about that.” 

“Hey, Haz,” Louis said, swinging his legs off the bed and wincing as the zip of his jeans brushed over his dick. “You know I’m gay, right? That’s kind of the point of all of this.” 

Harry laughed. “Yeah. Sorry. I know I’m being an idiot.” 

“You’re not. You’re being lovely. Thank you for understanding. For being patient.” 

“Hey, Lou,” Harry said, echoing Louis’s tone. “You’re worth it.” 

*

“Do I need to, like, gaze adoringly into your eyes?” Ella asked Louis, chin resting in her hands, elbows on the table. 

Louis rolled his eyes. “Nah. They probably won’t even take photos in here. They just need us coming in and out.” 

“Shaking it all about,” Ella said, stabbing a piece of potato with her fork. “And the story will be..?” 

“Romantic date with secret love? Some shit.” 

“When did you last have an actual romantic date with your secret love?” Ella asked. 

Louis winced, looking around to make sure no one could overhear. 

“It’s a very discreet restaurant, Louis. Kind of the point.” 

“God, you’re annoying,” Louis said. “You remind me of my sisters.” 

“Christ,” Ella said. “That’s depressing.” 

“Yeah, sorry,” Louis grinned, sipping his wine. “I’m not putting out tonight.” 

“Shit. I shaved my legs and everything.” 

“Preston’s single…” 

“Oh my god.” Ella grinned. She cut up some steak, added potato and spinach to her   
fork and popped the lot into her mouth. “So?” she said, still chewing. “Your secret love?” 

“I haven’t seen him this week,” Louis said. Was that true? He wasn’t sure. But it seemed like fucking ages, anyway. 

“You miss him?” 

Louis nodded. “A lot, yeah. He’s just… he made everything better. You know, like, I’ve had that house for a couple of years and it was fine - it’s a good house - but it was just a house. Until Harry was in it. And then--” 

“He makes it feel like home,” Ella said, putting her cutlery down and picking up her wine. “I get that. I want that.” 

Louis nodded. “I want it too. Permanently. That’s why I’m doing this.” 

“Me,” Ella said and reached across the table, brushing Louis’s fringe off his forehead. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Photographers,” Ella whispered. “Also I just really wanted to touch your hair. Soft.” 

“You’re a nightmare,” Louis said. And then he smiled. “Thank you.” 

“So what’s he doing tonight? Your Secret Loverrrrrr.” 

“Working. Ed - you met him today? - he’s playing a set in the pub Harry works in sometimes.” 

“Oh wow!” Ella said, and actually clapped her hands like a child. “We should go!” 

“We can’t go,” Louis said. 

“Why not?” 

Louis finished his wine and poured himself a second glass. Why couldn’t they go? It was on the way home. He was working with Ed. It wasn’t unreasonable that he’d go and see him play. And take his girlfriend with him. Was it? 

“I’ll ask Liam,” Louis said, taking out his phone. 

*

“This is so cool,” Ella said, as they stepped out into the beer garden. 

Louis had been looking for Harry since they’d walked into the pub, but hadn’t seen him yet. He’d agonised about whether to text him and tell him they were coming, but decided he wanted to surprise him. He was just worried it wouldn’t actually be a good surprise since Ella currenly had the index finger of each hand hooked through the belt loops of Louis’s jeans and her chin hooked over his shoulder. 

Liam had agreed that they could go to the pub on the conditions that Louis and Ella indulged in some mild PDA for the benefit of members of the public with their phones and that Louis didn’t lay so much as a finger on Harry. And while the thought of not getting to touch Harry was pretty horrifying, the thought of getting to see him and talk to him was just overwhelmingly good. 

“There’s Ed,” Ella said, her lips brushing Louis’s neck. 

Louis looked up, but instead of Ed, he saw Harry. Who was staring directly at him, his eyes dark. 

“Fuck,” Louis breathed. 

“What?” Ella said. “Shit. That guy looks like he wants to kill you. Who--” 

“That’s Harry,” Louis said. 

“Ohhh,” Ella murmured. “He doesn’t want to kill you. He wants to kill me. And fuck you.” 

Louis shushed her, even though there wasn’t anyone standing near enough to hear. He didn’t think. Harry was heading towards them, weaving between the tables. He was wearing his vintage Stones t-shirt. The one with the rip that Louis liked poking his finger through. 

“Louis’s in trouble,” Ella sing-songed, directly into his ear. 

“Shut up,” Louis murmured. He couldn’t take his eyes off Harry. If Liam was here, he’d be fuming. 

“Hi,” Harry said, when he reached them. “Glad you could make it.” 

“What?” Louis said. He hadn’t been expecting a hug necessarily, but he hadn’t anticipated a formal greeting either. 

“I’m Harry,” Harry said, holding his hand out to Ella. 

“Ella,” she said, taking it. “Lovely to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.” 

“Shut up,” Louis said again, coming out of his daze. 

“Louis!” Harry said, his eyes flickering to Louis’s for the first time since he’d actually reached them. 

“It’s okay,” Ella said. “We’ve got a thing going.” 

Harry let go of her hand, his eyes flicking to Louis’s again. 

“Not,” Ella said. “I mean… Don’t worry. Actually. I need a drink. Can you take me to   
the bar?” 

“Yeah, I’ll--” Louis said. 

“Not you, darling,” Ella said, squeezing his arm, just above the elbow. “Harry.” 

“Of course,” Harry said. 

Ella slipped her arm through Harry’s and they both walked inside, neither of them even looked back. 

“Jesus Christ,” Louis muttered, staring at the HOT N HARD in red block letters on the back of Harry’s t-shirt. 

Some fans came over, asking for selfies and offering to buy Louis a drink and then once they’d gone, Ed came over. 

“Alright, mate?” Ed said, sitting next to Louis. “Wasn’t expecting to see you here.” 

“I don’t know what just happened,” Louis said. 

“The selfies?” 

“No… Ella and Harry went off to the bar.” 

“I like Ella,” Ed said. “We had a bit of a chat while you were in the shower. She’s funny.” 

“She’s a pain in the arse,” Louis said. “But she’s great. I’m lucky.” 

“You are, mate. Bit greedy an’ all.” 

“I’m not interested in Ella,” Louis said and then panicked in case anyone heard. 

“Charming,” Ella said, sitting down on Louis’s other side. She was holding a beer. “And after all I’ve done for you.” 

She leaned against Louis’s side, pressing her lips up to his ear. “Harry’s waiting for you in the stockroom.” 

“What?” Louis said. 

“Turn to look at me. Quick kiss on the mouth. Get up, go inside. Through the door between the two bars. You’re welcome.” 

Louis turned his head. Her face was so close he couldn’t even focus on it, but he could tell she was smiling. 

“Thank you,” he said. 

“Kiss me, you fool.” 

Louis quickly pressed his lips to hers and was glad he had when he heard the click of a phone camera. 

“See,” she whispered against his mouth. 

Louis stood up, brushed one hand back over Ella’s hair, and walked inside the pub. He felt ridiculously suspicious, not just as if everyone was watching him, but that they knew where he was going and why. 

“Hey, Lou,” Perrie said, popping her head round from the front bar. “How are you?” 

“M’good. Thanks.” He may have actually been blushing. Jesus. 

“You couldn’t grab some crisps for me, could you? I’m short-handed here.” She winked a ridiculously over-the-top wink. Louis wanted to laugh, but found he couldn’t. He actually felt nervous. 

“No hurry,” Perrie said. And then she reached across the bar and handed him a key. 

“Shit,” Louis said. 

He walked back and up to the door, slotting the key in the lock. His hand was actually trembling. He pushed the door open to find Harry sitting on a pile of crates. He stood up as soon as Louis was inside the room, and stepped past him to push the door closed, taking the key out of Louis’s hand and locking the door before Louis had time to take in anything beyond how close Harry was to him, how he could smell his hair, how he wanted to bite his   
jaw. 

“So I like Ella,” Harry said, crowding Louis up against the door and pressing his lips to the spot just behind Louis’s ear. 

“This was her idea?” Louis asked, his voice wavering. 

“Yup.” Harry ducked down and mouthed over Louis’s adam’s apple. “She said you’ve been telling her how much you miss me. How you wanted to get your hands on me. Get your mouth on me.” 

“I didn’t say that,” Louis said, sniffing Harry’s hair. 

“That might’ve been a bit of artistic licence.” Harry tugged the neck of Louis’s shirt down and licked over the ‘It Is What It Is’ tattoo. “Are you smelling my hair? 

“Missed you so much,” Louis said. “Promised Liam--” 

He gasped as Harry pushed his top up, long fingers ranging over Louis’s ribs. 

“Promised Liam?” 

Louis moaned as Harry flicked his tongue over one of Louis’s nipples. 

“That I wouldn’t touch you.” 

“Wow,” Harry said, kissing across Louis’s chest to tug his other nipple between his teeth. “I can work with that. Keep your hands behind your back.” 

“Fuck,” Louis said. He grasped his left wrist with his right hand and spread his legs either side of Harry’s thigh. He could feel that Harry was hard already, his dick pressing against Louis’s hip. Harry dragged his lips along Louis’s collarbones and then straightened up, his face in front of Louis’s. 

“I love you,” he said, his eyes wide. 

“Fucking hell, Harry,” Louis said. “I love you so fucking much.” 

Harry dipped his head and pressed his mouth to Louis’s. Louis was starting to suck Harry’s bottom lip into his mouth when Harry pulled back. 

“You taste like lipstick.” 

“Ella kissed me. For the cameras.” 

“The paparazzi?” 

“No. People in the bar. Phone cameras.” 

“Kissed you how?” He was staring at Louis’s mouth. 

“Just a peck,” Louis said. 

“Show me.” 

Louis pressed his lips quickly to Harry’s and then Harry reached up and brushed his thumb firmly over Louis’s mouth. 

“I don’t want anyone kissing you,” Harry said, his voice low. 

“Fuck. Harry. I can’t--” 

“I don’t want anyone kissing you the way I kiss you.” He tipped Louis’s head back and licked into his mouth, his lips firm and insistent. Louis groaned again, grinding against Harry’s thigh. He was pretty sure that counted as him touching Harry. Liam would shit himself.   
Liam could fuck off. 

Louis felt Harry’s eyelashes fluttering against his skin as Harry sucked Louis’s bottom lip into his mouth and then grazed his tongue over the roof of Louis’s mouth. 

“Fuck,” he murmured. “I want you so much.” 

“We can’t,” Louis said. “Here.” 

“Can I blow you?” 

“Fuck,” Louis said again. “Yes. Please.” 

Harry stepped back and guided Louis away from the door, reaching back to check it was definitely locked. Louis stood in the centre of the room, his hands still clasped behind his back. Harry turned and his eyes flickered around the room. 

“I can sit on the crates,” Louis suggested. 

“You could,” Harry said. “Or…” 

He stepped up to Louis and reached around his back, unclasping his hands. His long fingers curled around Louis’s wrists and he tugged his hands in front of him and then up over his head. 

“Hold onto this,” Harry said. 

Louis looked up to where Harry had placed his hands onto the edge of a metal shelf. He shuddered. 

“Keep them there, yeah?” Harry said. And then he dropped to his knees and popped the button on Louis’s jeans. 

“I can’t,” Louis said. “I--” 

“You can,” Harry said, looking up at him from the floor. 

He looked incredible - long hair hanging down his back, eyes wide and so green, mouth wet and lips dark pink. Louis squeezed his eyes shut for a second and then nodded, staring   
down at Harry. 

The room was quiet apart from the sound of Louis’s breathing, Harry pulling Louis’s zip down. Louis could hear the hubbub from the pub, but it seemed very far away. 

Harry mouthed over Louis’s dick through the fabric of his underwear. 

“Please,” Louis heard himself say. 

Harry sat back on his heels and looked up at Louis, then he pulled Louis’s pants down under his balls and curled his huge hand around Louis’s cock. He slid his hand from top to bottom and then dipped his head, taking Louis into his mouth. 

Louis bit his lip, tightening his fingers on the shelf above his head. His arms and shoulders were already starting to burn, but he liked it. Although he was slightly worried his legs wouldn’t be able to hold him up. 

One of Harry’s huge hands slipped round the back of his thigh and gripped his arse, pulling Louis closer to his face. 

“I’m not gonna last,” Louis said. “Haz, I--” 

Harry sucked harder, his cheeks hollowing. Louis wanted to push his hands into his hair, hold him in place, fuck up into his mouth. Instead he just stood there and let Harry do whatever Harry wanted to do, until he couldn’t take anymore and came with a shout. 

Harry sat back on his heels and smiled up at Louis who was seriously contemplating letting go of the shelf and just falling onto the floor. 

Harry wiped his lip with his thumb and sucked it into his mouth, his eyes still focussed on Louis. 

“Let’s get you back to your girlfriend.”


	21. Chapter 21

“I think I was happier when I didn’t have to think about Harry’s dick so much,” Ed said, spinning round in his chair. “It was a simpler time…” 

“Fuck off,” Louis said. “You don’t have to think about it. In fact, don’t think about it. I forbid you to think about it.” 

“I mean, I’ve seen it enough. He walks round the house naked. But I’ve never seen it, you know…” He gestured with his hand. “But that’s how I picture it now. Like a ‘loaded gun’.” 

“Jesus,” Louis said. “Shut the fuck up.” 

Ed snorted with laughter and stopped spinning long enough to curl over the notepad resting on the mixing desk. He picked up his pen and tapped it against his teeth. “What rhymes with gun? Bum?” He grinned. 

Louis groaned, leaning back in his chair until the back of it cracked and he thought he might fall over it and onto the floor. He straightened up. 

“They’re not all about fucking.” 

“No,” Ed said. “But this one has enough fucking for the rest of them.” 

“God,” Louis said, rubbing his hands over his face. “Is it too much? Should we scrap it.” 

“No!” Ed said, spinning his chair again until he was knee to knee with Louis. “Fuck, no, sorry. I’m just taking the piss, winding you up. It’s great. Seriously.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. I don’t know what your Mum’s going to think when she hears about the, what was it? The taste on your tong--” 

Louis kicked out one leg and shoved Ed and his chair backwards across the room. 

“I keep thinking, like… is it too much?” Louis said. “It’s enough that I’m writing an album about being in love with a man, yeah? I mean… people are going to be shit about that, aren’t they? So should I just stick to, like, love songs? Am I taking the piss putting that on there?” 

Ed shook his head. “I think… When I wrote my songs I didn’t think about any of that. I was lucky. I got to write whatever the fuck I wanted. I didn’t have to worry about anyone’s approval. I mean, I did worry about what my mum would think about some of ‘em, but other than that.” 

He scooted his chair until he was in front of Louis again, and then swung it from side to side as he talked. He was never still, Louis had noticed that about him pretty early on. 

“So it’s been different for you, yeah? You’ve had Cowell and the record company hanging over you the whole time. Since you started. You’ve been second-guessing yourself and thinking about your audience and the market and all that other shit, the entire time. You haven’t had the chance to just, you know, do you.” 

“Right,” Louis said. “You’re right.” He leaned back again, looking up at the soundproofed ceiling. “That’s what I loved - what I love - about your stuff. It’s like… you’re doing what you want. When I first listened, I kept thinking about freedom. Not even the lyrics. The music. The passion of it. I still can’t quite get the word--” 

“Abandon?” Ed said. “That’s what I kept telling myself.” 

“Fuck,” Louis said. “That’s it, yeah.” 

Ed nodded. “I had it written on a sticker on my guitar. I was going to get a tattoo. Still might. I had to keep reminding myself that’s what it was about. It was about doing whatever the fuck I wanted and not caring what people thought. It was about putting it all down, even if I didn’t think I should, even if it scared me shitless. I had to just…” He spread his arms out to the side, grinning, and sang, “Let it go! Let it go!” 

Louis found his throat was tight. He couldn’t speak. 

Ed scooted his chair closer again, grabbed Louis’s knees with his hands, thumbs digging into the muscle above his kneecaps. 

“Y’alright?” 

Louis nodded, trying to swallow. He swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. “Fuck, sorry. I’m a mess.” 

“Don’t apologise. Don’t be a dickhead. This is important, yeah? This is your life, your art. I know that sounds wanky, but it’s true. You’re putting your heart into this record. And I think you’d regret it if you only put half in. You need to go for it. All in.” 

“All in,” Louis managed to say, nodding. Fuck. That was terrifying. 

*

“Lou, I need your phone,” Liam said, a couple of hours later. 

Louis and Ed had got into a rhythm - they’d written more in the last couple of hours than Louis had for months. Something about Ed was just right. They were already finishing each other’s sentences (or “sandwiches” as Ed kept saying - Louis was going to have to address Ed’s Frozen obsession at some point) and he just seemed to get exactly what Louis was trying to do in a way no one else really had. 

Louis had been worried that Liam turning up would break the spell, but it hadn’t yet. The four of them - Louis, Ed, Liam and Julian - were working well together. 

“Lou,” Liam said again. “Your phone?” 

Louis handed it over without thinking and then said, “Wait. What for. Don’t open the--” 

“I’m not going to look at your dick pics, Lou, god,” Liam said, his cheeks flushing pink. “What’s the pin?” 

“1994.” 

“Tell me that’s not for Harry,” Ed said from his spot at the mixing desk. 

“Fuck off,” Louis said, without looking up from his laptop. “What do you need it for?” he asked Liam. 

“Don’t freak out…” 

“I love it when you start a sentence with that,” Louis said, looking at Liam over the top of his laptop. “It fills me with confidence.” 

“I’m blocking Simon Cowell.” 

“Christ,” Louis said. 

“I just… I don’t want him trying to intimidate you.” 

Louis stared at him. “Is that likely? I mean… it sounds a bit dramatic.” 

“I know it does. But… what me and Julian have done. With the masters. It’s not exactly… I mean, it’s not illegal. But it’s not ethical. And once he realises, he’s not going to be happy.” 

“Understatement,” Julian said, as he walked in and perched on the edge of the mixing desk. “He’s going to shit blood.” 

“And I think it’s easier,” Liam said, ignoring Julian. “If we can keep him away from you. You’re writing. You need to focus. You don’t need him screaming at you.” 

“Right,” Louis said, looking down at his laptop keyboard. “Right. I--” 

“Seriously, Lou,” Liam said. “You can leave it to me. I know you feel bad about it, but you’re doing what he wants you to do. You’ve got the fake girlfriend, you’re doing pap walks, you’ve got that covered. Let me worry about the rest.” 

“Except…” Julian started, pushing his straw hat forward over his face and then back again. “We need to actually get some tracks down. Because you do need to deliver the album. He’s going to be fucking furious when he finds out what we’ve done. We need to give him the new shit as soon as possible. Even if it’s rough.” 

“Before he has time to get legal advice, preferably,” Liam said. 

“I mean, he’s got a legal department in house,” Ed said, before looking from Liam to Julian. “Sorry.” 

“Yeah, you’re right,” Liam said. “I mean before he’ll take legal action.” 

“You really think he will?” Louis said, his stomach churning. 

“If we don’t give him something else? Yeah.” 

“And maybe even then,” Julian said. 

“Fuck.” Louis ran his hands back through his hair. “Is it worth it? Should we just put the album out and cut our losses? Start again somewhere else?” 

“Harry was telling me about the tattoo on your ankle,” Ed said, scooting his chair across the room and picking up a beer from the refreshment table. 

“What?” Louis said, frowning. 

“I mean…” Ed said. “He was telling me how proud he is of you. How important it was to him when he was younger. When he saw that you were proud and you were fighting.” 

“Shit,” Louis said. He wished Harry was there. He wanted him there with him. 

“And how you can be this amazing role model. How gay kids will see you being out and proud and really fucking famous and think that it’s ok to be who they are. Yeah?“

Louis nodded. His eyes were prickling with tears again. 

“What if you’d had someone like that?” Ed said. “Fuck. Sorry. I’m laying it on really thick   
here. Do you want a beer?” 

Louis laughed. “Yeah. Please. And no, you’re right. I can’t really imagine how different it   
would have been for me if there’d been someone… I just would’ve known it was ok. I wouldn’t have felt so much like… shit. I would definitely have been less scared.” 

“Right,” Ed said. “So… all in?” 

“Fuck,” Louis said again. “Yeah. All in.” 

“Yeah?” Liam asked him. 

“Block him,” he told Liam. “How soon can we record?” he asked Julian. 

Julian grinned at him. “We can start today.” 

*

“The script was written and I could not change a thing,” Louis sang. “I want to rip it all to shreds and start again.” 

He glanced over at Ed, standing next to him with his guitar. Ed grinned at him. 

“Lovely,” Julian said, over the intercom. “Can we do the chorus again? Sounding really good, Lou.” 

Louis beamed at him. And then closed his eyes as he sang, “I want you here with me. Like how I pictured it. So I don't have to keep imagining…” 

Ed was doing the percussion on his guitar thing he’d done the first time Louis had seen him play. Louis could feel it in his chest. 

“Come on, jump out at me,” Louis sang. “Come on, bring everything. Is it too much to ask for something great?” 

“That’s my favourite so far, I think,” Liam said once they’d got a take Julian was happy with it. 

“Yeah?” Louis said. 

“Yeah,” Liam confirmed, smiling at him softly. 

Louis opened another beer to distract himself from the butterflies whirling in his stomach. It was weird how different it felt recording these songs. These songs that actually meant something to him. Unlike the songs they’d recorded before, which he’d written simply because he’d known he needed twelve songs. 

“Oh I was going to ask you,” Liam said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “The songs you recorded before. You definitely don’t want them?” 

Louis shook his head. He didn’t even want to think about them. They just reminded him of how far he’d let everything go in the wrong direction. 

“So I can offer them to other artists? Someone was putting feelers out for songs and I thought that might be a good idea. Seems a shame to waste them. They weren’t right for you, but they weren’t all bad.” 

Louis laughed, remembering how terrible it had felt when they were here recording and Liam told him the album was shit. Even though he’d known. He’d known right from the start. 

“Yeah,” Louis said. “That’s fine.” 

“You want to work on ‘No Control’ now?” Julian asked. 

Louis nodded, standing up. He rested his hand briefly on Liam’s shoulder and Liam smiled distractedly at him, before turning back to his phone. 

“Got the bullets for your loaded gun?” Ed said, as Louis opened the door to the sound booth. 

Louis gave him the finger.


	22. Chapter 22

“‘So your friend's been telling me you've been sleeping with my sweater’,” Louis sang quietly, staring down at the notebook. 

“Oh shit,” Ed said. “Harry’s going to fucking kill me.” 

Louis grinned at him and glanced at his phone again. Still nothing from Harry. They’d got to the studio at ten, which was probably the earliest Louis had ever got to the studio, and Ed had continued taking the piss out of him over the McDonald’s breakfast Liam had brought them. 

“He’s as gone for you as you are for him,” Ed had said. “He’s been wearing this big cream   
jumper and apparently it’s yours?” 

Louis had laughed. “I didn’t know he had that.” 

“I mean, it’s a change of pace to see him dressed. But, yeah, mooning over you. Like a teenage girl. I bet he sleeps with it.” 

“Fuck off,” Louis said. But he hoped he was. He hoped Harry was sleeping in it and wanking it it and thinking about Louis as much as Louis was thinking about him. 

He’d pulled his phone out and texted Harry: ‘I miss you.’ 

But Harry still hadn’t replied. 

“‘And that you can't stop missing me,’” Louis sang now, ignoring Ed. “‘Bet my friend's been telling you I'm not doing much better, cos I'm missing half of me…’ That’s all I’ve got. Until the chorus.” 

“Do the chorus again,” Julian said. He was sitting back on his chair, his hat tipped forward over his face. They’d been over the chorus loads of times already. 

Louis sang: “‘And being here without you is like I'm waking up to… only half a blue sky… I miss everything we do, I'm half a heart without you.” 

“Still needs something in between,” Julian said from under his hat. 

“‘I'm half a man at best,’” Ed sang. “‘with half an arrow in my chest.” 

“Yes!” Julian said, lurching forward on his chair, the wheels squeaking. 

“I miss everything we do,” Louis sang. “I’m half a heart without you.” 

“We don’t need to hear about everything you do,” Liam said. “Save that for another song.” 

“Don’t you fucking start,” Louis said, rolling up a McD’s bag and throwing it at him. 

“Was it ok last night?” Liam asked, dodging it. “There’s photos in the Mail.” 

Louis shrugged. “Yeah. Ella’s great. And there was only, like, three of them.” 

When they’d left the studio, Liam had arranged for Louis to go and pick Ella up from some party at a gallery on Regent Street. There were paps outside and it meant Louis was photographed leaving a party with his “secret girlfriend” without actually having to go to the party. Plus Ella had had a good time and had made him laugh on the way home by doing impressions of the various society-type people she’d been introduced to. 

“Is it weird having her living with you?” Julian asked. 

“Not really,” Louis said. “I mean, not beyond how fucking weird the whole live-in security/fake girlfriend thing is anyway. The main thing is not seeing Harry.” 

As if on cue, his phone buzzed and he snatched it up, seeing Harry’s name on the lock-screen. 

“Should we leave you alone with your phone?” Ed said, picking through another McD’s bag for any last remaining chips. 

“Fuck off,” Louis said, but his dick actually twitched in his jeans at the idea of being alone with his phone and Harry. 

The message from Harry said ‘Miss you too. Just waiting to go into work. Can you talk?’ 

Louis stood up, tapping the call icon on his phone as he walked out of the room. 

“Dirty bastards,” Ed called after him. 

The phone only rang once before Harry answered. “Heyyyy.” 

“Hey,” Louis said, stopping and leaning back against the wall of the corridor. “It’s good to hear your voice.” It was better than good, he’d missed talking to him so much. 

“Sorry I missed your call last night.” 

“That’s ok. I know it was late.” 

Louis’s belly was actually fluttering with nerves or excitement, he wasn’t sure. But it was ridiculous. He glanced up and down the corridor. There was no one else around, but he didn’t want to talk to Harry there. 

“I’m just going out to my car,” Louis said. 

“Going somewhere?” 

“No. We’re in the studio all day. I just… Hang on.” 

He pulled open the door and walked through the carpark, clicking open his car on the way. 

“I wanted some privacy,” he said once he was sitting down. 

Harry laughed. “I don’t think I’ve got time for that kind of call. But I could start you off.” 

Louis laughed. “Fuck off. You sound like Ed.” 

“You’re having phone sex with Ed?” 

Louis laughed again. He could picture Harry’s fake-outraged face. “He’s constantly   
taking the piss out of me. How mad about you I am.” 

“Ah.” Harry sounded fond. “Yeah, he does that to me too.” 

“He’s great. Has he told you about the songs?” 

“Nope. He’s told me that they’re good and that it’s all going well, but no details.” 

“Right,” Louis said. “Good.” 

“You’re happy, yeah? He said you are.” 

“I am, yeah. Really happy. I just miss you.” 

“I miss you too. So fucking much.” 

“I don’t know when--” Louis said, just as Harry asked, “Do you know when--” 

“Sorry,” Louis said. “I can ring you tonight? When I’m back from the studio? I’m not going out so it shouldn’t be too late.” 

“That would be good,” Harry said. “I was thinking we could Skype maybe.” He   
sounded nervous and Louis’s belly fluttered again. 

“God. Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.” 

“Oh hey, Perrie’s here,” Harry said. 

“Hiya, Louis,” Perrie sing-songed directly into the phone. 

“Hi, Perrie,” Louis said, even though he knew she probably couldn’t hear him. 

“So I’ve got to go, yeah?” Harry said. “Talk later?” 

“Yeah,” Louis said. “Sounds good. Have a good day.” 

“You too. Hope it all goes really well in the studio.” 

“Thanks.” Louis didn’t want to say goodbye. He didn’t want to not be talking to Harry anymore. He didn’t want to not know when he’d next get to see him. 

“Lou?” Harry said. 

“Yeah?” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too,” Louis said, but it was almost certainly drowned out by Perrie shrieking at Harry on the other end. 

*

They managed to demo another two songs in the morning and then called out for pizza. 

“Do you think we could order something with, I don’t know, nutrients for dinner?” Julian asked. 

“Nope,” Louis said, popping the p. “Recording requires junk food. Everyone knows this.” 

“Everyone does not know this,” Julian said. “Real food is available. Vegetables. Fruit. Healthy options.” 

“Feel free to get healthy options for yourself,” Louis said, picking up a slice of pizza and watching the cheese stretch out from the box, “But I was thinking of Indian tonight. Or Thai.” 

“Thai sounds good,” Ed said, through a mouthful of garlic bread. 

“This is all fine now,” Julian said, gesturing at the pizza boxes and the beer bottles lined up along the table. “Because you’re young and think you’re invincible. But in a few years, you’ll have to consider your arteries--” 

Ed laughed so much he started to choke and Julian thumped him on the back as Louis opened a can of Coke and passed it over to him. 

“You’ve depressed me so much, I’m going out for a fag,” Ed said, once he’d recovered. “Consider my arteries. Fuck. I’d rather die.” 

“And you will, mate,” Julian said, patting him on the shoulder. “You will.” 

“Want one, Lou?” Ed said, holding the tin in which he kept his roll ups out to Louis. 

Louis frowned. “Actually I do.” 

“Lou,” Liam said, warningly. 

“I know, I know. Just one. Haven’t had a roll-up for ages.” 

“They’re, like, tobacco, yeah?” Liam asked Ed. 

Ed grinned. “Yeah. I’ve got another tin if you--” 

“No thanks,” Liam said. “Go and smoke and then get back to work.” 

“Don’t eat all the pizza,” Louis told him as they left. 

 

They leaned back against the wall next to the main door. Ed lit both cigs and handed one to Louis. 

“I had a panic attack just here,” Louis said, once he’d taken his first drag. “When we were recording before.” 

“Yeah?” Ed said. 

Louis closed his eyes, remembering the tightness in his chest, the feeling of everything being wrong. “Yeah. Liam said some shit about the album - he was right, obviously, but I… I didn’t know what I could do about it. And I came out here and I just couldn’t breathe.” 

“Fuck,” Ed said. “That’s rough.” 

“Yeah.” Louis straightened up, opening his eyes, and took another drag. 

“Better now though, yeah?” Ed said. 

Louis could see he was looking at him. “Yeah. Much better.” He smiled. 

“Was this before Harry, or--” 

“I’d met him already. But it wasn’t like…” 

“Serious.” 

“Yeah. Or… I mean, I knew it was something right from the start. But I didn’t know if   
he did.” 

“He did,” Ed said. “I probably shouldn’t tell you that. But, yeah. He did.” 

Louis smiled down at the ground, dropping the cigarette and screwing it into the floor with the toe of his trainer. 

“You two are sickening,” Ed said, laughing. “Fuck.” 

“Sorry,” Louis said. But he was still smiling like an idiot. He wanted to get in his car and drive to the pub and throw Harry on the sticky floor. 

“Listen,” Ed said. “I just need to say something. I mean, I don’t think I really have to, but if I don’t--” 

“You can say anything,” Louis said. “I mean, I reserve the right to smack you one, but--” 

“Don’t hurt him,” Ed said. His cheeks had gone pink. 

Louis shook his head. “I won’t--” 

“Don’t mess him around,” Ed said. “I mean, I know… it’s not necessarily realistic for the two of you to be together forever. But… you should be honest with him. No matter what.” 

Louis nodded, his throat tight. “I will. No matter what.” 

“Okay,” Ed said. “Good.” 

“Man,” Louis said, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you tried to menace me.” 

“Fuck off,” Ed grinned. 

“I appreciate it though. You’re a good friend.” 

“Actually there’s something else,” Ed said, his pale cheeks flushing again. He ducked his head down and rubbed the back of his neck. “Same goes for me. I mean, while I’m… you know. If we’re going to be working together, you should be honest with me too. I don’t want our professional relationship to fuck up…” He waved his hand. 

“Right,” Louis said. “Yeah. And you need a contract. Liam’s sorting it.” 

“Good,” Ed said, still pink. “That’s good. And thanks, man. For the opportunity. I really appreciate it.” 

Louis smiled. “You know it probably means you’ll be blacklisted by Simon Cowell for the   
rest of your life and beyond?” 

Ed tipped his head back, laughing. “I think I’m okay with that, yeah.” 

 

They worked on two more songs in the afternoon - Home and Strong - and then Julian said they were ready to demo a couple more before ordering food (he’d tried - and failed - to convince them to get sushi). 

“Oh hey, Lou?” Liam said, just as Louis opened the door to the sound booth. 

Louis stopped, his hand on the handle. 

“Do you have any ideas for the title?” Liam asked, still looking down at his phone. “Of the album? I think the more ‘done’ it is the easier it’ll be. I want to present it as a fait accompli.” 

Louis laughed. “Fait accompli, Liam? You’ve changed.” 

“Shut it,” Liam said, smiling. “Done deal. Whatever. Have you got one? A title?” 

“I have, yeah,” Louis said. “I want to call it Wholehearted.”   
Liam looked up then, looked over at Louis, and the look on his face made Louis’s chest feel   
tight. 

“That’s okay, right?” 

“Yeah,” Liam said, his cheeks had actually gone a bit pink. “It’s perfect. I’m so fucking proud of you.” 

“Fuck off,” Louis said, but he was grinning.


	23. Chapter 23

The album was done. Demoed. Roughly demoed. Very roughly demoed. 

Liam insisted it would be fine. That Simon and Syco would love it, would realise it was so much better - more marketable - than the original album. Louis wasn’t so sure. But he also realised it was completely outside of his control - he’d done everything he could. From here it was up to Simon Cowell. And Louis wasn’t willing to waste any more time worrying about it. 

Liam had suggested an end of album party and Ed had insisted they have it at the The Red Lion and so Louis would be seeing Harry (outside of Skype) for the first time in more than two weeks and he could not wait. 

“You’re so cute,” Ella said, watching Louis picking at the rip in his jeans as his knee jiggled up and down. 

“Shut up,” Louis said. “I’m nervous.” 

“That’s what’s cute,” Ella said. “Have you decided what you’re wearing?” 

Louis shook his head. 

“You’ll need something with easy access…” Ella said. 

“God,” Louis said. “How are you still here? The album’s done, can I get rid of you now?” 

Ella bumped his shoulder with hers. “You’d miss me.” 

“I actually would,” Louis said, picking up a can of Red Bull and holding it against his face. “What is my life.” 

Ella held the back of her hand to his forehead. “You’re burning up. You’re not ill, are you? That’d be a bastard.” 

Louis shook his head. “I’m just… I’m freaking out. It’s a big deal, you know. All of it. The album and Syco and Harry. And I know Liam says they won’t sue, but they might. And I could lose everything and--” 

“What’s more important?” Ella interrupted. She swung around so her back was against the side of the sofa, and she picked her legs up, pushing her toes under Louis’s thigh. 

“What?” 

“What’s more important? If you had to choose between your career and Harry, you’d--” 

“Harry! Fuck, obviously Harry.” 

“So what’s the problem?” Ella said. “Cowell decides to be a bitch about it and you lose your house, your car, your demo things?” 

“Masters,” Louis said. 

“Yeah, masters. You can make more. You and Ed. You’ve got money, which gives you options. And you’ll still have Harry. In person. Not on a screen.” 

Louis glanced at her from under his fringe. 

“Oh yeah, I know about all the Skype sex. The walls aren’t that thick.” 

“God,” Louis said, his face heating even more. 

“But do you know what I mean?” Ella wiggled her toes. “You’ve been hiding who you are for so long. And with this album you’re coming out, right? So be out. All out.” 

Louis laughed. “I told Ed I was all in.” 

“In, out,” Ella said. 

“Don’t say it,” Louis said, smiling. 

“I’ve heard quite enough of the shaking it all about during the Skypeing,” Ella said. “As IF I was going to let that one go!” 

Louis groaned, dropping his head back against the sofa. 

*

“On my way,” Louis texted from the car later. 

“Can’t wait to see you,” Harry replied immediately. “Stockroom again?” 

Louis laughed. “No. I want you to come home with me.” 

“Is that allowed?” 

“Don’t care.” 

“R u serious?” 

“Yes. Is that ok? Can you stay?” 

“Fuck yeah.” Harry replied and then sent another text that was just aubergine emojis and Louis laughed again. 

“Texting with your boyfriend,” Ella sang. 

Louis instinctively glanced at the driver, before realising it probably didn’t matter that much anymore. That was a weird feeling. 

“Yeah,” he told Ella. “I asked him to come home with me tonight.” 

“Ooh! Does that mean I need to make myself scarce?” 

Louis shook his head. “I think you’ll have to come back too. Unless Liam tells me otherwise.” 

“I feel so loved,” Ella said. “I’ll nip out of the party and get myself some ear plugs.” 

“Thank you,” Louis said. “I know I’ve said it before, but you’ve made this situation a lot easier than it could have been.” 

Ella smiled. “Thanks. You too. Mates, yeah?” 

“Mates, yeah.” 

“Fuck, I’m nervous,” Louis said, as the car pulled up outside the pub. 

Ella picked up his hand and rubbed her thumb over the back of it. “You’ll be fine. Once you get inside and see your friends. And Harry. You’ll be fine.” 

“I think… I’ve got used to none of it mattering very much, you know? So it was easy. But this--” 

“This is good,” Ella said. “My mum calls it ‘joyfear’. The scary good stuff is, you know, where the magic happens.” She grinned at him. 

“Fuck,” Louis said. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and said, “Right. Let’s go.” 

Louis pushed the door open and reached for Ella’s hand to help her out of the car.   
There were a few paps outside the pub, but Louis ignored them, focussing on just getting himself and Ella to and through the door. His stomach fluttered as he remembered the first time he’d come here to see Harry, how nervous he was then. This time there was security on the door - they nodded at him and one of the men pushed the door open and Louis and Ella walked into the pub. 

Louis immediately looked to the bar, for Harry, but he wasn’t there. 

“Louis!” Perrie yelled, putting down a glass and a cloth and heading out around the end of the bar to come and meet them. 

“This is Ella,” Louis said. “Ella: Perrie.” 

“I’ve heard loads about you from Ed,” Ella told Perrie, as Perrie hugged Louis. 

“Me too!” Perrie said. “About you, I mean. From Ed.” 

Louis’s mouth was dry and he was breathing fast. 

“Come and get a drink, babe,” Perrie said, tugging him towards the bar. “Haz is out back with Ed. He’ll be back in a minute.” 

“Louis’s nervous,” Ella said, squeezing his hand. 

“We’re gonna have a great night,” Perrie said, kissing Louis’s cheek. 

She passed him a shot and he was about to drink it before he even asked what it was. 

“Vodka,” Perrie said. “Get it down ya.” 

She’d passed one to Ella too and she clinked her glass against Louis’s before they both downed it. Louis wiped his mouth as the alcohol burned down his chest. He didn’t know whether to wait for Harry to come to him or to go and find him outside. He just wanted to see him. He knew he couldn’t touch him, not here. But he wanted to see him. 

“I’m just going to…” he started to say, but he was heading towards the back room before he’d even finished the sentence. 

He glanced towards the stockroom as he passed, but the door was closed, and there was no light shining through the frosted glass. Maybe he could get Harry to go in there with him later. He couldn’t imagine spending a whole evening with him and not being able to touch him or kiss him. Not after two fucking weeks. 

He was just about to walk through to the beer garden when a body hit him from behind, arms wrapping round his chest and squeezing. 

“Oi oi!” 

Louis laughed, dropping his head as Niall planted a wet kiss on the back of his neck. He turned round and returned the hug. 

“I didn’t know you were coming,” Louis said against Niall’s neck. 

Niall squeezed him again and then pushed him out to arms’ length. “As if I’d miss   
this, ya dickhead! Where is he then?” 

“I haven’t seen him yet,” Louis said. “I’m just…” 

He’d only taken another couple of steps into the far room when he saw Harry coming in through the doors from the beer garden, Ed next to him, his guitar in its case over his shoulder. Harry was looking down at Ed and laughing. His hair was up in a bun and he was wearing a black sheer shirt, embroidered with red roses, and his ridiculously tight black jeans, ripped at the knees. 

“Fuck,” Louis breathed. 

“Is that him?” Niall said. “Jesus Christ, Lou. Even I’m half-hard.” 

Louis laughed and the sound of it must have carried because Harry’s head snapped up and he looked straight at Louis, his eyes dark. They stared at each other for a second and then Harry’s face broke into his ridiculous grin and then he was crossing the room and Louis wanted to jump into his arms. Or throw him on the floor. Or just drag him away, away from everyone else, somewhere where Louis could fuck him in that ridiculous shirt. 

Harry stopped right in front of Louis and his arms were reaching out before he seemed to realise and dropped them to his sides. 

“Fuck that,” Louis said, shrugging, and pulled Harry to him. Their chests pressed together and Louis felt Harry’s hand hot on his back. 

“The fuck is this shirt, Haz?” Louis said against Harry’s neck. His head was tipped back slightly and he wanted to tip it back further, let Harry kiss his throat, along his jaw. 

“Like it?” Harry said, his voice low, mouth directly next to Louis’s ear. 

“It’s ridiculous,” Louis said. “I love it.” 

He felt rather than heard Harry laugh, but then they weren’t hugging anymore and Harry was stepping back and Liam was standing next to him, staring at Louis with half a smile. 

“This is Harry,” Louis said, gesturing. 

“I figured,” Liam said. He held his hand out to Harry. “Good to meet you, finally.” 

“You too,” Harry said. He turned back to Louis. “You got a drink?” 

“I’ve had one, yeah,” Louis said. “Perrie sorted me.” 

“Beer?” Harry said. 

“Please, yeah,” Louis said. 

Harry headed back to the bar and Louis resisted the urge to turn and watch him go. 

*

“Are you going to sing?” Niall asked Ed, gesturing at his guitar. 

The five of them - Louis, Liam, Ed, Niall and Ella - were sitting outside on one of the picnic tables, beers and chips littering the table in front of them. Harry and Perrie had both been popping out whenever they had a chance and Louis was already feeling relaxed and warm and happy. 

“You should,” someone said from behind him and Louis looked back to see Julian grinning down at him. 

Louis stood up to hug him and then people were pulling tables over to make one big table and Louis stepped back for a second to watch his friends, together. The other tables were full now too. Practically everyone Louis knew in London was there. He wished he’d had enough notice to invite his family - he would’ve loved his sisters to be there, his mum even - but there just hadn’t been time. 

“Hey,” Harry said, arriving next to him and bumping him with his hip. 

“Hey.” Louis smiled up at him. “I can’t even look at you in that shirt.” 

Harry grinned. “That was kind of the plan. For you to not be able to resist me.” 

“I already said you were coming home with me,” Louis said, voice low. “You don’t have to tempt me.” 

“Ah,” Harry said. “But I like it. Tempting you.” 

“What do you think, Lou?” Ed called over, holding his guitar up. “Gonna sing?” 

“Fuck no,” Louis said. “I just want to enjoy myself.” 

“Come on!” Ed said, frowning and laughing at the same time. 

Louis shook his head. “Nah. You should though.” 

Ed rolled his eyes and when Louis turned to get Harry’s confirmation that he shouldn’t have to sing at his own party, Harry was gone. Louis headed inside, telling himself he needed the loo, when actually he was just looking for Harry, but before he made it to the bathroom, he saw Nick. 

He blinked at him from a distance, but then Nick was walking towards him, stupid grin all over his face and Louis found himself grinning back. 

“Look at us,” Nick said. “Out in public.” 

“Not yet,” Louis said, hugging him. 

“I mean, we are,” Nick said, stepping back and looking around. “This is public. Literally a public house. And we are out in it.” 

“M’not yet though,” Louis said. “Out, I mean.” 

Nick’s face softened. “But you’re going to be, yeah?” 

Louis nodded. “Yeah.” 

“That. Is. Brilliant. Now where’s that secret girlfriend of yours? I want to trade sex stories.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Louis said. But he led Nick outside and introduced him to Ella, before heading back inside for the bathroom. Or Harry. 

 

He looked at himself in the mirror as he washed his hands. He hadn’t seen Harry between the beer garden and the bathroom. But it was probably for the best. That fucking shirt. He dried his hands and was just trying to smooth down his too fluffy fringe when the bathroom door opened and Louis saw Harry in the mirror. 

Harry smiled and headed straight for Louis. Louis turned, his back against the sink unit. 

“Saw you with Nick,” Harry said, stopping just in front of Louis. 

“Fuck off,” Louis said, laughing. “Come here.” 

He hooked his fingers into Harry’s belt loops and pulled him closer. 

“Here?” Harry said, ducking his head and rubbing his nose along Louis’s cheekbones.   
“After two weeks?” 

“Just… I can’t wait until we get home,” Louis said. “It’s hours off.” 

Harry tipped his head away from Louis. “But what’s another couple of hours.” 

“Harry,” Louis said, unhooking his fingers and sliding his hands under Harry’s shirt. His skin was warm and soft and Louis wanted to drop to his knees and kiss Harry’s hips. He glanced down and saw the laurels. 

“Come on,” Louis said, jerking his head towards the cubicles. “M’gonna blow you.” 

Harry laughed. “No. I’m not… You can wait. We can wait. We’ve waited this long.” 

“Fuck,” Louis said, tangling his hands in the front of Harry’s ridiculous shirt. “Too   
long. Are you seriously saying you don’t want me to blow you?” 

“No. I’m saying I want to spend all night making up for two weeks without seeing you. In your bed. I don’t want a quick blowie in the loo.” 

“Shit,” Louis said, frowning. “You’ve changed. Where’s the Harry who couldn’t keep his hands off me.” 

“My hands are on you,” Harry said, running his knuckles over Louis’s belly. Louis curled over, pulling one hand out of Harry’s shirt to readjust himself in his jeans. 

“Let me kiss you then,” Louis said, tipping his head back. 

“At home,” Harry said, his mouth quirking in a smile. 

“Fuck off,” Louis said. 

Harry grinned and braced his hands either side of Louis on the sink unit. 

Louis reached up and tangled his hands into Harry’s hair, trying to pull him down. Harry let himself be pulled, but just quickly pressed his lips to Louis’s before stepping back. 

“You’re not serious,” Louis said. 

“At home,” Harry said, walking backwards towards the door. 

“I hate you,” Louis said. 

“I love you,” Harry said. 

And left. 

*

“So a couple of months ago I met the guy we’re all here for tonight,” Ed said from the small stage. 

Louis paused, a bottle of beer halfway to his mouth. 

“He came and saw me perform and then asked me for a demo. And since then he’s been a brilliant mate and support and we’ve worked together on his album and… it’s been a dream come true for me, to be honest.” 

“Get up there,” Niall said from Louis’s side. 

Louis shook his head. 

“I was wondering if he might want to come up and join me for one song?” Ed said. 

People cheered and Niall shoved at Louis’s arm. “Go on!” 

“Go on,” he heard Julian say from behind him. “Give ‘em a preview.” 

“God,” Louis said. “Alright.” 

He clambered off the bench and weaved his way between the tables, grinning at friends he hadn’t had a chance to chat to yet, someone clapped him on the back, someone else reached for the beer he hadn’t realised he was still holding, but he decided to take it with him - his mouth was getting dryer with every step. 

When he reached the stage, Ed hugged him and Louis squeezed him back, the beer foaming up and overflowing slightly. 

“Oops,” Louis said into the mic, wiping his wet hand on his jeans. He spotted Harry standing at the very back of the yard, leaning against the wall, his arms folded, a huge smile on his face. 

“So,” Louis said. “Ehm… thanks a lot for coming.” He swigged some beer. “Shit. I’m nervous. Um. This album means a lot to me. It’s not the album that was meant to come out. But we, eh, scrapped that and recorded this instead. So it’s really personal to me. More than anything I’ve written before.” 

He felt Ed bump him with his shoulder and he turned and grinned at him. 

“This one’s been brilliant. I couldn’t have done it without him. And I feel really lucky   
to have made an album I’m really proud of as well as a friend for life.” 

Everyone laughed as Ed took Louis’s beer and swigged some himself. 

“So, um, apparently we’re going to do a song. We haven’t rehearsed or anything, so apologies if it doesn’t go well. This is a song that pretty much sums up exactly where I am now. It’s called Home.” 

Ed started to play and Louis started to sing with his eyes closed, his stomach was clenching with nerves. 

By the time he got to ‘I was stumbling, looking in the dark, with an empty heart’ his eyes were open and focussed on Harry, who was staring back, no longer smiling. 

“‘I’ll make this feel like home,’” Louis sang, staring directly at Harry. 

*

There were no paparazzi outside Louis’s house. The gates opened, the driver pulled up,   
Harry and Louis got out and the driver left, the gates sliding shut behind him. 

Louis didn’t even trust himself to look at Harry until they were safely inside the house. They’d pretty much avoided each other as the party had wound down - Harry had been cleaning up anyway - and Louis couldn’t be near him without touching him, so he’d made a point of talking to everyone else there. Which was the polite thing to do anyway. 

Louis shut the door behind the two of them and Harry said, “Is anyone here?” 

“No,” Louis said, his voice cracking. “I gave Preston the rest of the night off. And Ella’s gone home.” 

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” Harry said, stepping closer to Louis. 

Louis cocked his head. “No?” 

“I think - I could be wrong - but I think she might’ve gone back to Niall’s hotel with him.” 

“Seriously?” Louis said. “Fuck. Worst fake girlfriend ever.” 

Harry grinned. “Good for Niall though.” 

Louis smiled back at him. “Yeah. Good for Niall.” 

Harry stepped even closer, until he was just inches away and it was all Louis could do to not grab him. But he wanted to wait and see how Harry wanted to play this. 

“And Ella,” he said. 

“I don’t want to talk about Ella right now,” Harry said, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of Louis’s jeans. 

“No?” Louis said, his breath catching. He balled his hands into fists rather than push them up under Harry’s ridiculous shirt. “You want to talk about Nick?” 

Harry laughed. “No. I really really don’t want to talk about Nick.” 

“You hungry?” Louis said. “I could make some toa--” 

Louis gasped as Harry pushed him back against the wall and licked into his mouth. 

“I’ve missed you so fucking much,” he said, before diving back in again. 

“Upstairs,” Louis said, as Harry pushed his hips into Louis’s. 

Harry dipped his head and mouthed at Louis’s throat. “Watching you on that stage. God.” 

“Upstairs,” Louis said again. He was so hard. He started trying to pop the button on his jeans, but Harry knocked his hand away. 

“I want to,” Harry said. “I want you.” 

“Fuck, you can have me. Come on, Haz. Upstairs!” 

Louis pushed Harry away and turned down the hall. 

“Fuck I’ve missed your arse,” Harry said, following him. “Missed everything.” 

Louis took the stairs two at a time, Harry close behind him and once they were in Louis’s room, headed straight for the bed. 

“Ella hasn’t…” Harry said. 

“God, no,” Louis said. “No, Haz. Shit. There’s nothing--” 

“Shut up,” Harry said, pushing Louis back onto the bed and crawling up over him.   
“Sorry. Just had to ask.” 

Harry said, after, his head on Louis’s chest. “I can't wait to hear the rest of the album.” 

“I can’t wait for you to hear it either,” Louis said, combing his fingers through Harry’s hair, and down his back. 

“I can't believe you wrote a song about me. That was… god, Lou.” He tipped his head back to look up at Louis. 

Louis leaned down and kissed him. “Haz. Babe. All the songs are about you. 

“Fuck,” Harry sighed, rolling on top of Louis again. 

 

“Remember the day we met?” Louis said into the side of Harry’s neck. 

“Errrrrrr,” Harry said. “No. It’s gone. Remind me.” 

“You’re funny,” Louis said. “You said you’d moved to London to find out who you are.” 

“Oh yeah,” Harry ran his fingertips up the side of Louis’s ribs. “And then you wanked in the driveway.” 

“I will always regret telling you that.” Louis rolled over and propped himself up on one elbow. Harry grinned at him. “But I’ve been thinking about it… Not that!” he said, seeing   
Harry start to smirk. “You haven’t done any of the things you wanted to do. I mean, I don’t really know what--” 

“Lou,” Harry said, hooking his ankle around Louis’s leg. 

“No, let me say this. I know you’ve been hanging around for me to get my shit together. I know it hasn’t been easy. But I am all in now. All in. And if there’s stuff you want to do then I--” 

“Lou,” Harry said again. “Shut it.” 

“Nice,” Louis said. 

Harry reached around the back of Louis’s neck and pulled him down for a kiss. 

“When I moved here, I had all these ideas of what I needed to do, yeah. But then I met you. And everything changed.” 

Louis kissed him again. 

“I’m all in too. And I know who I am,” Harry said, smiling. “I’m yours.” 

THE END


End file.
